


To See and Start Anew

by Vaellean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Time Travel, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22347916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaellean/pseuds/Vaellean
Summary: Draco Malfoy attempts to send himself back into the past to fix history. But at the very last moment - the spell is interrupted, and the magic goes awry. Now, a younger Draco must deal with an onslaught of fragmented memories, unknown skills he definitely should not have and a voice inside his head telling him that he's Seer.Merlin's balls, his first year at Hogwarts was looking great already.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Neville Longbottom & Draco Malfoy
Comments: 82
Kudos: 483





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter I: Inheritance**

\----------

_“Are you sure about this?”_

_“What other options do we have?”_

_“We’re going to fix this.”_

_“The ritual is ready, prepare yourself.”_

_“The Heralds are coming! Illuminus has found us!”_

_“ILLUMINUS IS -.”_

\----------

And with a start, Draco threw himself from his bed, a scream caught in the back of his throat, the image of crazed golden eyes still fresh within his mind. With a resounding crash, he tumbled off the edge of his mattress, hands reaching out frantically for purchase only to grasp at the covers which then fell alongside him. The pain of the impact sending a wave of shock and clarity through his mind, as he slowly and with great effort, sat himself up. 

What are horrid nightmare, he thought to himself, rubbing at his face then to clear the sleep from his eyes and sweat from his features. It had been a while since he had had a nightmare as bad that one. Next time, no more reading Hogwarts a History right before bed, though fantastic, some of those stories were downright terrifying. Thinking of those eyes again, he felt a shiver go down spine. Creepy.

Standing himself up, he made his way over towards the loo, being careful not to trip over any of the scattered covers he had brought along with him on his tumble down. Getting to the sink, he stepped up on the small step ladder his parents had graced his bathroom with, and moved to examine himself in the mirror. Grey eyes. Chubby cheeks. Blond hair. Breathing a sigh of relief, he acknowledged that everything at least seemed fine. He couldn’t afford to be sick today of all days after all. 

Hopping down from the step ladder, he moved to draw himself a bath. As he did so, a soft pop, sounded off near his side, and he turned to take in the sight of one of the family's house elves standing confused by the vanity - Dober, Dodson, Dodo?

_“His name was Dobby. And he was my friend, you git.”_

Hearing the voice, Draco spun himself around, eyes glancing about in an attempt to find its source. Finding nothing, he turned back towards the elf, a pensive frown upon his features. Soft, distinctly male, and distinctly older than himself. It certainly couldn't have been his father, particularly considering it just referred to a house elf as it's friend, as if such a thing was even possible. Frown deepening and stepping forward, he spoke then, eyes focusing upon the other being. 

“It's Dobby, right?” He said, absently dipping a hand in the bath to test the temperature of the water. Watching him, with its large eyes, the elf jumped as it was addressed. Surprise clear upon its features. 

“Y-Yes! M-m-master Draco!” the creature stuttered, head bowed low. “I i-is Dobby. Ummm, w-would Master Draco be wanting Dobby to draw his bath for him now, instead of himself?”

Deciding he was comfortable with its temperature, Draco withdrew his hand from the water before shaking his head in response. “No, thank you. It’s fine. I can handle this on my own. You can however help me with rechecking my luggage, in case I’ve forgotten anything from the night before. Please and thank you.” He finished with a nod. 

Looking legitimately dumbfounded, the elf merely stared at him, eyes growing impossibly large. “D-D-did Master Draco, just tell Dobby p-please and th-thank you?”

Pausing at the elf’s statement, Draco took a moment to reflect. Huh. “Yes. What of it?” He said with shrug, not entirely sure where the elf’s bewilderment was coming from. True, he hadn’t really ever been particularly kind to the family elves at any point when he was younger, but he was sure he’d at least said please and thank you at some point in the past. It was after all, the polite thing to do. _No, you hadn’t. Not even once._

“Anyway, my luggage Dobby?” He repeated, gesturing an arm back out towards his room. “Both Mother and Father want everything to be perfect on my first day, and the last thing any of us wants is to find out we forgot something.”

“Oh! R-Right away Master Draco!” Dobby spoke then, popping away from the loo to his room the moment the words had left its mouth, the sounds of shuffling and latches clicking open and closed wafting back towards him through the open door. 

\----------

“Well that’s certainly a new look. Trying to change things up on your first day hmmm?” His mother smiled, watching him then as he bounded down the steps of the manor’s grand staircase, his luggage piled neatly at her side. Reaching the bottom, he rushed forward, his mother catching him in a hug just as he came to a stop. He laughed in her arms, before pulling away, smiling up at her as his father joined them in the main hall, the last of Draco’s luggage floating alongside him. 

Lucius smiled at the sight of them, before spelling the items he had brought to set themselves down along with the rest of Draco’s things. “New indeed.” He spoke then, walking forward and extending a hand to ruffle the younger blonde’s hair. “And here I was getting concerned you were never going to get past the excessive gel phase. I am beyond relieved.”

Chuckling softly behind her hand, Narcissa moved to stand by her husband, observing the new style in amusement and with a critical eye. Gone was any trace of gel or mold, and instead a more laissez-faire sort of approach was used, with the long blond locks left to sweep along and frame her son’s face as they curled and coiled near the top of his head. “That makes the two of us dear. Though I am rather curious as to what exactly brought about this particular change.”

_“It makes you look so much more handsome this way. Nothing makes a man more approachable than a little organized chaos, and you even look less like a pompous arse.”_ The voice, a new one, whispered at his side, soft, teasing and wonderfully sweet. _“Even despite the fact that you are one.”_

_“.... Shut up Astoria.”_

“Draco? Draco, dear is something the matter?” Narcissa spoke then, her delicate features shifting into the smallest of frowns. Immediately realizing that he had momentarily zoned out in the presence of his parents, Draco shook his head. 

“Oh, sorry Mother. Got distracted for a moment.”

Lucius let out a scoff. “More than understandable. I recall barely even being able to tie my own laces my first day at Hogwarts. The boy’s clearly just excited darling, there’s nothing to be concerned about. I think the new look is just fine. Regardless,” and it was at this point Lucius reached into his robes and pulled forth a pocket watch. Clicking it open, he continued. “It is already 8:30, and if we want to grab the best cabin on the train for Draco, we’re going to have to leave now. The Crabbes and Goyles are probably already there as we speak.”

“Right. Yes of course.” Narcissa nodded, turning then towards her husband to place a kiss on his cheek. Eugh, Draco internally thought. “Alright then, I’ll go ahead with our little Dragon here, and you finish sending off the luggage to the Castle. We’ll see you on the train alright.” 

“Of course.” Lucius smiled. “I wouldn’t dare miss it.”

And with that, Narcissa took Draco by the hand towards his stack of luggage. Then, grabbing a single leather bag from amongst them, she pushed it softly into his hands, a quirk upon her lips. “Your new school robes from Madame Malkins. Be sure to treat them well, we even had them spelled to grow alongside you as you get older. You’ll also need to change into them while you’re on the train, so keep that in mind as well.”

Taking the bag, Draco nodded. “Yes mother, I will. I’d really rather not get measured again. Madame Malkins was nice, but it was soooo boring. I was sure I was going to go bonkers if I was in there any longer.”

Chuckling at the statement, Narcissa extended a hand towards Draco. “Ahh yes. Pleasant as she is, Madame Malkins certainly does have a tendency to drag things on far longer than necessary. Now, come along dear. Time for us to go.”

Taking her hand, Draco immediately felt a pull at the pit of his stomach, clenching his eyes shut then as the familiar feel of being squeezed in all directions took hold upon his form. Gravity shifted, his body suddenly falling and floating all at once, an increasingly uncomfortable and nauseating push and pull upon the entirety of his being. Then the next thing he knew, he was bracing himself against the chill of the outside, the light of the sun suddenly bearing down upon him as the sound of hundreds of people and strange muggle crafts rang through the air.

Turning towards him, his mother crouched down to meet his height. “Alright now Little Dragon, one more hop and we’ll be right by the entrance. Do you think you’ll need a bit before we go?” She asked, absently patting his robes. Currently, they were standing within one of the smaller desolate side streets along the path to Kings Cross, with the Station itself already within sight. “I know you’re not exactly fond of apparating.”

Draco shook his head. “It’s alright Mother. I think i’m good.” He smiled.

“That’s the spirit.” Came the prompt reply, his mother once again offering her hand for him to take. Without hesitation Draco took hold, glancing towards the Station proper just a few streets away. Turning back to his mother he asked.

“Also, why did we have to apparate out here mother? Couldn’t we just pop inside the station?”

“Ah well, that’s a thing love. We can’t apparate inside the station, only beside it, because of the wards surrounding the facility.”

“Wards? You mean like the ones we have at the manor?”

Thinking for a moment Narcissa tapped a finger to her lip. “Yes and no, they are similar yes in that they are both made to protect those inside, but also different in the way that they’ve been made and supposedly powered. But, I highly doubt now is the time to be discussing the intricacies of bounded fields and transmutation. You good little sir have a train to catch, and if you really must know. We came here first so that we could see where best to apparate near the building. The last thing we want to do is appear directly in front of a group of muggles if we can help it.”

“Oh, I understand now mother, thank you.” Draco smiled.

“My, my look at the manners on this one.” Narcissa smirked, giving the boy a couple playful pokes to the ribs, causing Draco to descend into a fit of giggles. “Hasn't even been a day from home and already so mature. Alright, now let us away.” And they vanished with a pop, reappearing inside the curve of a small alcove along the old brick walls of Kings Cross. From there they made their way around the building towards the entrance, and slipped inside.

There were so many people! Everywhere that Draco looked was bustling with activity, the sound of incoming and outgoing trains echoing throughout the entirety of the building. With swift steps, and the slightest of frowns upon her features as she gazed upon all the muggles amongst them, Narcissa lead Draco further into the station, passing platform after platform until they reached a small section of wall between 9 and 10. 

Stopping for a moment, Narcissa bent down to crouch at Draco’s height, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “Alright darling, mother will go first, and you just do exactly what I do alright. It may look a little strange, especially with so many muggles around, but I assure you none of them will notice and nothing will hurt you. Right, now watch closely dear, I’ll be waiting on the other side.” She spoke, lips quirking upwards as Draco gave a nod. 

“Alright mother.”

“Good. Till we meet again little Dragon.” She stated with a poke to Draco’s nose. And with that, Narcissa rose from her crouched position and made her way forward towards the empty wall. Then with a wave and a smile, she gingerly took a step and vanished into the stone. Whoa! Draco gaped, that was so cool. 

Running up to the wall after her, Draco immediately ran up towards the stone. With an excited energy, he pushed his hand up against the cool surface of the wall and watched in amazement as his arm simple went into it. Seeing this, Draco let out a giggle and pushed himself forward, face meeting the stone with no impact whatsoever. 

In an instant, he was on the other side, the sight of an entirely new platform greeting him as he moved past the threshold. From there, he spotted his Mother of to the side, giving him a small wave and motioning him over. Joining her there, Draco took in the bustling site of the station before him, the people everywhere, readying their things and saying their goodbyes, and the roar of the train as it slowly readied for departure.

Without preamble he felt his Mother then gingerly take his hand and begin leading him deeper into the station, weaving their way around people as they neared the train itself. The train wheezed loudly as they drew close the whining of the steam echoing in Draco's ears. Stepping up towards the nearest entrance for boarding the train, Narcissa reached forward to wrap her arms around her son, spotting Lucius as she did so quickly making his way to join them.

"Perfect timing darling." Draco heard his Mother chuckle, releasing him from her hold just as his Father arrived. Immediately, a firm and comforting hand came to sit atop Draco's shoulder, Lucius smiling softly.

"But of course. I wouldn't have dared missed this. Our little Drake is finally starting to grow up."

"That he is dear." Narcissa laughed. "Though let's both just hope he doesn't get into anywhere near as much trouble as we did when we were in school."

Clapping Draco on the shoulder, Lucius smirked. "Only matters if he ends up getting caught. Isn't that right Draco."

The smallest blonde simply grinned in response. Narcissa sighed, though her features were fond. "Such a wonderful influence you are Lucius. Anyway, you'd best get going now little Dragon. Cabins look to be filling up quickly."

"Ah yes, your mother is right Draco, better move soon else all the good spots end up taken and you have to room with some of the less dignified folks currently about." Lucius drawled, his previous warmth smoothly cooling over as he shot a glance at a family just entering the platform. Bright red hair, old worn clothes and the numbers matching their rodent like name. Weasleys, his brain immediately supplied, his lips slowly curling. Blood-traitors, ugh how disgust-.

_"I'll forgive you, so long as you forgive me Malfoy."_

_"... Just like that?"_

_A nod. "Just like that. Helps that I've unbelievably come to the realization that I actually kind of like you when you're not being a slimy ferret. We were kids Draco. Neither of us knew any better."_

_".... No. No I guess we didn't."_

"-every other week." Draco blinked, the very tail end of a comment made by his mother just barely registering to his senses. "Or at the very least one letter a month. Sound reasonable?"

Suddenly feeling ill and decently confused, all Draco could do was give his mother a nod and try to stop the unexplainable discomfort churning in his gut. What in the world was this sensation. Like a weight in his stomach and a foul taste in his mouth, all pertaining to those filthy blood traitors.

_Guilt. Its guilt that you're feeling._ His mind supplied. But how? How could that possibly be the case here? Guilty, he was feeling guilty? For what?

Seeing his discomfort, both Narcissa and Lucius sent a glance towards each other before looking about around themselves for the briefest of moments. Then in the next, having acknowledged that there no prying eyes, both moved forward to comfort the younger blonde. 

"Don't worry son. Everything's going to be alright." Lucius smiled, placing both hands atop Draco's shoulders. Warm and stabilizing. "You are a Malfoy remember, and Malfoys can handle anything. You're going to crush this year little Dragon."

"My Gods Lucius, that's what you have to say. No skill whatsoever." Narcissa spoke, rolling her eyes towards her husband before turning towards Draco. "Now things may see scary and intimidating at the moment sweetie, but soon you're going to be having so much fun, learning new things and meeting so many new friends -."

"- Just so long as they're the right sort of -."

"- Lucius." Narcissa cut in, shaking her head fondly. "But yes. You're going to have a wonderful, fun and amazing year little Dragon. And if you ever need anything, remember both your Father and I are only an Owl away. I love you my little one."

"Love you guys too." Draco replied, feeling warm to his ears and all sense of discomfort banished from his person.

"Good." Narcissa nodded, before ushering Draco up into the train. "Now, quickly. Quickly. The train will be leaving in a couple minutes so hurry up and find Vincent and Gregory. And don't forget to write. I mean it!"

"I will! Talk to you both soon!" Draco waved, excitement bubbling up from inside him as he slipped into the train. Almost immediately, his eyes took in the sight of countless jittery first years just like himself, dragging their luggage along the path of the train. All of the slowly but steadily peeking into cabins before disappearing inside.

Scoffing smugly at the sight of the others, Draco stride confidently further into the train entirely unhampered by cases and bags thanks to his parents sending his items ahead. It was so fascinating, walking up and down the aisles, taking in the sight of his soon to be yearmates and sizing them up in terms of potential connections and obvious talents. Network early and as often as possible, his father had always said, because the more people you know, the more popular one seems and the more resources you have at your disposal. And popularity, recognition was power. And though still young, Draco knew he was destined for power. He was a Malfoy after all. It might as well be in his blood.

After a bit of time looking, Draco eventually stumbled upon Vincent and Gregory in one of the forward cabins in the train, sitting quietly with a smaller boy staring blankly out the window in the seat across. Tousled brown hair, the slight smattering of freckles on his still fairly rounded cheeks and though he couldn't currently see them, bored, disinterested looking eyes of solid black. It had been a while since Draco had last seen Theodore Nott, and judging from the awkward and slightly pleading looks both Vinny and Greg were giving him through the glass, the smaller boy was likely still as frigid and biting as he always was. A natural-borne arse if you will.

It took Draco less than a second to decide on what to do, and with a smirk gave both his fellow purebloods a wink and promptly walked on by. He did feel a little bad for leaving Vinny and Greg there to deal with Nott by themselves, but he would be back. Maybe, possibly. If he didn't end up finding Pansy or Blaise or Millicent or Daphne. Yeah, he really just didn't want to deal with Nott right now. Or ever. 

Besides, if rumours could be believed. There supposedly quite the celebrity on the train today, his parents had absently informed him a while ago. A fact confirmed by the near incessant buzz of excitement from all the other first-years as he made his way further towards the back of the train.

Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived, was on the exact same train Draco was on right now and it left the blonde almost giddy with excitement of getting to meet an actual living legend, even despite how much Lucius disapproved of him. For Draco, like with most other Wizarding youth born in recent times had grown up with tales upon tales of the great Harry Potter, and the fact that, right here right now, if Draco played his cards right, he could potentially become friends with him was both legitimately mind-boggling and practically meant to be. After all, they did have quite a lot in common, fame, money, power and though Draco was certainly behind in glory, he was certainly determined to catch up in that regard as well.

Smiling to himself at the thought, Draco steadily quickened his pace just as the train beneath him began to move, eyes and ears scanning for any traces or hints of Potter's potential location. And just as he's about to make his way into the second last section of the train, he sees him. A tiny scrawny little thing, with crazy black hair, thin wide-brimmed glasses sitting in a cabin all by himself. He was wearing drab muggle styles clothes, that seemed clearly several sizes too big and was overall not at all as impressive looking as Draco had been expecting. Draco would have almost been disappointed if not for the sudden nausea that rapidly overtook him the moment he laid eyes on The Boy Who Lived. 

Draco also realized at this moment, that he also had had no idea what Harry Potter even looked like, save for the scar and that in some bizarre form of precognition, he immediately known that this tiny timid little thing was the Savior of the Wizarding World. But how? How did he know that? Why did he know that?

Faster than he could even realize, Draco's whole world began to spin. The churning roiling sort of nausea in his stomach spreading throughout his entire body, just as his mind was suddenly aflame. Images, faces, voices and sensations all not his own slamming into him, a torrent of emotions and fragments of knowledge forcing themselves into his brain in a stream of just unending colour, sounds and tragedy. Draco didn't even feel his back hit the ground, body curling into a ball, his vision having gone blank already long before. The very last cognizant thing that he can recall hearing above the raging storm inside his head, a voice, old and young at once, strange and yet so very very familiar. 

**_"Not exactly the best outcome. But good enough. Hello Draco, I'm you from the future and we have a lot of work to do."_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback is more than appreciated. Anything done well, anything that could be improved upon, please lay it on me haha. It feeds my motivation to work and better my story and storytelling. 
> 
> Alright, have a good one folks and thanks for reading. Stay safe out there y'all!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II: Drake and the Sorting**

\-----------

The other boy sitting across from Draco looked to be around the age of one of his Father’s interns. He had sharp angular features, with the faintest traces of baby fat upon his cheeks, sharp almost silver grey eyes and messy platinum blonde hair that fell haphazardly around his face and across his brows. He was clad in a plain white dress shirt and a pair of strange blue pants, jeans, if he could recall correctly and muggle sneakers. He looked like one of those pompous pretty boy sort of blokes he’d seen before in some of the Daily Prophet tabloids, all dark and mysterious like and completely obsessed with how other people saw them.

From where he sat atop the single wooden stool, in a vast expanse of white Draco observed as the other boy, paced back and forth entirely immersed in his own train of thought, words spilling from his mouth every so often as he mumbled and murmured on about things Draco himself had no idea how to even begin considering. Statements pertaining to his current manifestation, his apparent age, the effects of magic that could somehow cause a mutual possession. 

That last part really put Draco on edge if he was to be perfectly honest with himself, but also given his current situation, and the fact that he had no bloody clue what was going on and what he was doing here, he thought it was probably best not to antagonize the only other company he happened to have in this particular limbo. As that would potentially mean, the stranger would either A: Off him, or B: leave him here by himself, and really Draco didn’t know which one was worse.

He was also rather silently impressed at the fact that he hadn’t broken into hysterics yet, after being suddenly shunted into such a strange situation. Literally three days ago he had rather embarrassingly taken nipping from one of the Manor’s Peacocks and wailed for half an hour. Neat. He guessed this would have been the moment his father congratulated him for finally growing a bit more of a backbo-

_“-Hello?”_ A snap at the forefront of his vision broke Draco out of his reverie. _“Earth to Draco, are you present lad?”_

Shaking his head slowly, Draco nodded at the other boy. _“Sorry. I think so Sir.”_

Immediately, the other boy frowned and made a face. _“Eugh. Well that’s something I never expected to hear in any level of context. Thank you; I hate it. Please never call me Sir again.”_ Then there was a flash of something in the eyes of the other. _“Dear Merlin, I just integrated a meme into a conversation. What have you done to me Scorpius.....”_

_“Scorpius? Who’s that?”_

A shake of the head, and the briefest hint of a frown. _“Ah, no one relevant right now. Anyway, not exactly the best outcome. But good enough. Hello Draco, I'm you and we have a lot of work to do."_

Draco could only blink in response, mind now suddenly racing a kilometer a minute. _“...... how?”_

_“How am I you? Well, that’s a little complicated, but if my theory and understanding of how things have gone is correct, I am you from around thirty years in the future. Despite!”_ The other blonde, raised a finger just as Draco moved to speak. 

_“How I currently happen to look. I believe it is the effect of the magic attempting to average out our now.... linked psyches until we eventually become one homogenous entity. So I’ve been made to look twenty years younger, while you have suddenly become several times more mature for your age. It’s why you're currently not a massive ball of anxiety and desperation right now.”_

_“....But, but why? Why is this happening?”_ Draco replied, brows furrowing in now steadily growing concern. _“How are you from the future? Aren’t time magics supposed to be illegal? And, and what do you mean hom-homo-whatever that word means. What’s going to happen to me?”_

_“Homogenous entity.”_ the other boy replied calmly. _“And don’t worry, i’ll explain everything to you all in due time. For now, as we don’t exactly have too much time for dilly-dallying by my estimations, I need to inform you of some changes that are likely going to occur to your being over the course of the next couple of weeks, months and potentially years.”_ The other blonde smiled wryly. _“And no, we will not be including puberty, that will be your own business to deal with.”_

_“Wh-what?”_

_“First of all, as we slowly reach the point of equilibrium, more and more of my knowledge and memories will begin melding in with your own. And no, they will not supersede those that you already have,”_ the other stated, raising their hands up then in a calming gesture in response to the sudden expression of immense fear that blossomed across Draco’s features.

_“Rather, they will simply act as an additional source of information and experiences to draw and learn from. Secondly, the memories can and will be a little disorienting at first, as certain things out in the world that you may encounter may trigger them to surface. Meaning you will either already know or soon enough come to know things about certain people very early on, that you probably should not logically be aware of. Don’t worry, I have a plan for that.”_ A thumbs up was given to Draco at this point alongside a crooked sort of smirk.

_“On a similar vein, you may also find certain skills and techniques will now likely come significantly easier to you as well, as you essentially already possess the knowledge and experience on how to use and perform them effectively. Lastly, you are a Seer, and you will need to make contact with one Sybill Trelawney as quickly as possible. Don’t be fooled by the rumours of her incompetence, the clever wench started those herself so that she doesn’t have to teach as much. And that’s it for now i'm afraid, I can only hold this mental construct for so long, and quite frankly I am exhausted. So I will speak to you more when you wake up. Also, for convenience’s sake, call me Drake. Toodles.”_

And as the other blonde gave an ever so casual sort of wave with their fingers, Draco felt pull at the center of his stomach, dull and soft before rapidly growing stronger and stronger before his vision when hazy and felt himself fall from his stool, mind still very much trying to comprehend just what in the name of Merlin’s blue balls he just went through and how in the world he was ever going to be able to make sense of it all.

That was his future self? Why in the world had he tampered with time of all things? How all this was going to affect his first year at Hogwarts and what in the world was going to happen to Draco?

\---------

The first thing Draco opened his eyes to, as he gradually came to consciousness was the fact that there were several people in the same room he happened to be in, followed shortly by the acknowledgement that he was in the Hogwarts hospital wing, a location that he knew logically that he himself had never been to, and yet was so innately familiar he knew immediately where he happened to be, given the ever present scent of herbs and medicinal draughts that permeated the area. 

The room was lit by several hung chandeliers that dangled from the room’s vaulted ceiling, along with a pair of two wall mounted sconces that framed each and every window. It was currently evening from what he could see, given the dark cover of night that hung just beyond the light of the ward, and the presence of stars in the skies in the distance. Slowly, he braced himself on one of his elbows, feeling a wave of dizziness hit him for a moment before he suddenly found a potion stuck up to his face.

Across the room and now gravitating towards his bed, he watched as the figures of his very concerned looking parents, godfather and Albus Dumbledore moved in unison to the realization of his reawakening. Off to his side, and still very much holding the potion up to his face for him to take was Madame Pomfrey, a single brow arched expectedly as she swished the very clear Pepper-up potion she was wordlessly insisting he take.

Mouthing a thank you to the elder Witch, Draco gladly reached out to down the potion. Drinking the entire solution in one fluid gulp before handing the vial back to the matron of the ward. Instantly, he felt the potion start to take effect, and his dizziness began to subside along with the sensation of warmth steadily growing from within his belly. Beyond the taste, the sensation was quite pleasant, and helped him put on a bit of a sheepish smile as all the other relevant adults in the room moved to gather around his bed. As they did so, a voice spoke then, loud and clear, deep within his mind and very much not his own. 

**_“For simplicity’s sake. Don’t tell them anything that I told you lad. It will only make things harder right now, trust me. Tell them it was nerves, that’d be believable. Also, and this is serious, do not stare directly into the Headmaster’s eyes for any amount of time. Best of luck.”_ **

Merlin, this person. _“Well thanks for the explanation.”_

**_“You're very welcome.”_ **

Sheepishly, Draco sat up properly in the bed, and raised a hand to rub at the side of his neck. “Hello, Mother, Father. Fancy seeing the both of you soon.” he said with a wry and clearly embarrassed sort of chuckle. He watched as his parents then gave others a look, glancing between themselves, Severus and Draco before Narcissa leaned forward and wrapped her around Draco’s form, tight and ever so shaky.

“Oh little Dragon, barely an hour into your departure and you’ve already scared myself and your father halfway to death.” He mother spoke, shaking him in her arms, and tightening fast before releasing. 

“What in the world happened out there?” She asked, sitting herself down on the side of Draco’s Hospital bed, features drawn down, concern written clearly upon her lips and across her gaze. Walking up to stand at her side, Lucius placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“Yes, but also no need to rush Draco. Take some time to get your bearings, your mother and I, and Severus are all right here.”

Slowly, Draco nodded in response, feelings torn about his entire experience and all the information suddenly thrust upon his shoulders. He knew that the right thing to do here was tell the people he trusted that a strange man has somehow established residence inside his head. That he had been making him see and hear and know things, he had never heard of or was ever supposed to have heard of before. And that he insisted that he was in some way shape or form, supposedly Draco’s future self come back to the past, with totally no intention of potentially overwriting the fabric of Draco’s being. Hah.

And yet. There was this powerful gut feeling Draco had, that the other was in fact being entirely genuine as flippant and eccentric as they had been. And that whatever it was that they told Draco, was in fact the truth. That, and the sudden overwhelming sense of impending fear and doom that quickly followed up that brief acknowledgement also happened to aid quite a bit. Not so much a fear from another source like Drake, but one deep within even himself, shared between them both. The image of cruel dancing golden eyes, flickered across his vision. 

“Th-Thank you everyone. I’m sorry for causing all of this bother for you all. I do think I just got a little too excited that’s all.” Draco spoke, giving his parents his guiltiest most regretful and embarrassed sort of stare.

“Well so long as you are feeling better now, Mr. Malfoy.” Dumbledore chimed in, a couple steps away so as to provide the family space. “I admit it was quite the shock you gave us all this morning.”

“It is what you get Mr. Malfoy, when you mix too much nerves, excitement and no sleep the night before.” Madam Pomfrey added, a single brow raised and a quirk to her lips, as she walked back to rejoin the group after having left to put away the empty potion container. Draco felt himself go a little pink, he had gone to bed fairly late last night.

“And seeing as you are perfectly fine now, and all diagnostic spells have come back clean and without issue, I’m fairly confident you should be good for Hospital discharge at this point in time.”

She turned towards Draco’s parents then. “All the lad needed was some rest, he should be more than fine now. If you want a written set of result of the diagnostics Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I would be more than willing to provide.”

Lucius gave a soft sigh of relief. “If you would please Madam Pomfrey. It would certainly help in alleviating some of our concerns regarding today.”

“Of course.” The matron nodded, just as Dumbledore spoke up again, a smile on his features and small laugh on his lips. 

“Well. Now that that, is settled, given the fact that you both are still here Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, would you perhaps like to stay for the remainder of the day’s events? The rest of the other children should be arriving fairly soon at the station, and at the very least I would like to offer you both the chance to watch as young Mr. Malfoy here finds his House.”

Glancing towards one another, Lucuis and Narcissa seemed to consider the option for a moment, before eventually coming to share a smile. “Very well. Considering this little devil here,” Narcissa spoke, gesturing towards Draco. “Had us inadvertently cancel all of our plans for the day, I do believe we could fit some time to watch the sorting into our schedules.”

“Haha! Marvelous, I shall go and make arrangements and let everyone know.” Dumbledore hummed happily, starting forwards on his way towards the doors. “I shall see you all during the sorting then. Severus, if you could please help young Mr. Malfoy rejoin his fellow students when the time comes, that would be lovely.”

“I shall see it done, Headmaster.” 

“Ah, my sincerest thanks.” Dumbledore replied, giving the room one final smile before slipping out the door, only to pop back in a moment later. “Oh and speaking of thanks, do try and give one to Mr. Potter, Draco my boy. He was the one that happened to find you and alert the prefects of what happened.”

And as the Headmaster slipped away, Draco’s eyes grew wide at the implications of that statement. Harry Potter had been the one to find his body? Merlin, this was mortifying. One of his childhood hero’s first encounters with him was finding him sprawled across the floor of a train cabin, dead to the world. Somebody end him right now. How was he even supposed to speak to the other at this point? More than that, what would all of his other classmates think? 

Draco Malfoy, The-Boy-Who-Fainted-On-The-First-Day-Of-School. He was never going to be able to live any of this down. Never. He should just give up on school and leave right now. How in the world was he ever supposed to make his family proud, when the first thing that came to the other kids’ minds the moment they would meet him was that he was some sort of invalid?

_**“Trust me. I have a plan. It’ll be fine.”** _

_“Easy for you to say! You’re just a voice inside my head!”_

_**“Hey, rude, don’t call me out like that. You’ll hurt my feelings.”** _

Off to his side, and seemingly completely unaware of Draco's sudden internal screaming match, Madam Pomfrey also gave a hum of thought. 

“I should also probably start getting myself ready for the feast as well. All Hogwarts staff must be present at the first great feast after all, and I will provide you both your papers when I return Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,” She said, walking off back towards the other end of the Hospital wing. “Till then.”

Watching as the older woman made her exit through the other doors of the ward, Severus moved to join Draco and his parents at his bedside. “Well that’s certainly one way to start one’s first year at Hogwarts.” The darker haired man said idly.

Narcissa huffed. “Indeed. Are you sure you’re alright to go on with tonight dear? I’m sure we can make alternative arrangements should you wish, for the sorting and whatnot. It wouldn’t be the first time I've seen it happen.”

Shaking his head and thoughts out of the mental bickering he had been partaking in. Draco gave his mother a soft sort of smile and heaved a sigh of his own. “No. I uh, I think I’m good now mother. Sorry for scaring you again. But I do feel so much better now.”

Narcissa pursed her lips at his response, still looking decently skeptical before eventually giving a nod. “Very well then. It seems you’ve already made up your mind about this decision. And I guess as a consolation we do get to see your sorting. Have you any idea what House you’ll likely be in?”

Near unanimously both Severus and Lucius and Draco spoke at once. “Slytherin.” 

And Narcissa let out a laugh in response. 

\-------------

Standing now, lined up alongside and amongst his fellow classmates, Draco could feel the dozens of eyes looking upon his form from all angles of the Great Hall. The faint sounds of whispering echoing all around him, from the tables all throughout where the other students sat, and from his fellow first-years excitedly and fearfully murmuring amongst themselves about how the sorting would be conducted.

Surprisingly, there actually weren’t as many nasty rumours he managed to pick up regarding his less than pleasant experience on the train, but there were a few and Nott quite specifically chose to exaggeratedly re-enact the event the moment his eyes had made contact with Draco’s across the room, arms flailing and waving daintily at himself. But that was Nott, and that was just what he did. Draco didn’t like it, but he had had to put up with worse before from the other boy when they were younger and their parents were still close.

Looking around, Draco absently tried to search for a familiar set of crazy black locks and round wire spectacles, but tragically was unable to find the boy that they were looking in and amongst the throng of bodies they all happened to be enveloped within. Which made sense, given that as of now, they had been roughly grouped into an order pertaining to their last names.

Off to the side, he could see his parents upon a conjured set of chairs near one of the alcoves one the right side of the Hall. Still within clear sight of the front of the chamber where the sorting was to take place, but far enough out of the way, to keep too many prying eyes from focusing too much upon them.

Feeling a nudge at his side, Draco turned to look and take in the sight of a taller rounder boy fidgeting quite awkwardly in place. Eyes turned towards the front and seemingly unaware of bumping into him just now. Medium length brown hair, brown eyes with chubby sort of cheeks and two large front teeth he was using to very effectively brutalize his lower lips. A name came to mind quickly and without preamble, as well as a series of emotions and thoughts surrounding the larger child.

_Neville Longbottom. Wimp. Incompetnent. Joke. Respectable. Brave. Friend?_

Draco couldn’t help but pause at that last acknowledgement. It was very clear that these were Drake’s past associations with his old Longbottom, but a Malfoy friends with blood traitor? Now, that was absurd. The Longbottoms were next to bottom rung in terms of power and prestige amongst Pureblood society, whatever could have happened to his supposed older self to lower themselves to such base standards in terms of connections?

_**“Because he was a good bloke and a better friend than most could hope for. And you know I’m telling the truth. Trust in your gut lad. You may not be actively aware of them, but my memories are now also your memories and you know he’d been there for me when he didn’t have to be when it counted most. Let him be there for you too. Don’t be an arse.”** _

Feeling the faintest hints of heat building across his cheeks and the sick coiling sensation of steadily blooming guilt in his stomach, Draco let out a silent internal cry of frustration as he school his features and nudged the fellow boy in front of him. Immediately, the other eleven year-old nearly jumped out of his shoes as he spun around to face the blonde, face a growing shade of scarlet and eyes wide with shock and trepidation. 

“The sorting uses a hat.” Draco whispered, drawing upon the faint recollections he could make out from Drake’s memories. “Calm down. You’ll be fine. They won’t be siccing any trolls on first-years.”

Registering Draco’s words, the boy mumbled a quick reply. “W-Wha-What makes you so sure?”

“Because I happen to have insider knowledge.” Draco smirked, just as Drake chimed in, jumping into his thoughts. 

**_“Tell him that he’s going to make a fantastic Gryffindor, and that he’s actually braver than he thinks he is.”_ **

_“What? Why?”_

_**“Just do it you tiny git. Trust me.”** _

And with a roll of his eyes, Draco continued. “And also because I know you are braver than you think, Longbottom. You’re going to make an excellent Gryffindor.”

And as he continued to speak, Draco found that initially what started out as the mere humoring of the voice inside his head, had now steadily turned to a truly sincere sort of encouragement. Seeing the other boy’s face go slack for a moment, Draco quickly turned his attention away feeling heat gradually building across his features and up to his ears. 

He almost missed the barely whispered, “Thank you.” that came from the other boy’s direction, but couldn’t help but indulge in the strange sensation of satisfying warmth that came from hearing said words. 

From there, the rest of the sorting was a blur of movement, with the revelation of the Sorting Hat and the calling of First Years one after another. Until inevitably, Draco himself was walking down the path, seeing Neville sitting awkward but happy amongst the red and gold lions off to his left and his parents waving towards him on his right. He watched as Severus gave him a nod and Dumbledore a smile as he set himself down upon the stool at the front and the hat was dropped upon his head.

**“Clever. Opportunistic. Ambitious. Determined. And yet at the same time wise, compassionate and dare I say, selfless. A truly difficult puzzle the both of you are. Yet perhaps just what the world will need if what your knowledge holds is to come to pass. But where to put you. You are brave, protectors now, the House of Lions would serve you well. Loyal and unwavering in those you have made your promises to, the House of Badgers too, would be all the better to have you. But I think perhaps this endeavour you seek to accomplish will need a more subtle hand, shrewd, adaptable and yet uncompromising. It will be more difficult, but for the best chance of success, and for the house itself to shed it’s now tainted skin, SLYTHERIN it shall have to be. May Merlin’s Will be with you.”**

And with a gasp Draco didn’t know that he had been holding, the ancient leather hat was pulled from his head and the blonde took in the sight and sound of the green table clapping and cheering. Hopping off the seat, he sent a small wave to his parents as he strode on forwards, moving past table after table down the way until he just nearly missed the sight of crazy unkempt hair, and stark green eyes. 

Across the way, with two whole tables between them, Draco stopped and mouthed a distinct thanks to one Harry Potter as the sortings continued, giving the other boy a smile and a laugh before he continued on his way, mind and thoughts filled with excitement for this whole new section of his life. Because despite all the happenings of the day, and the sudden whatever-is-happening time nonsense thrust upon his shoulders, he had done it. He had gotten through his sorting, and he was here. His time at Hogwarts had finally begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback is more than appreciated. Anything done well, anything that could be improved upon, please lay it on me haha. It feeds my motivation to work and better my story and storytelling. 
> 
> Alright, have a good one folks and thanks for reading. Stay safe out there y'all!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN REWRITTEN CUZ I DIDN'T LIKE THE FIRST ONE VERSION ENOUGH. Okay that's it.

**_Chapter III: Starting Days and Upstart Schemes_ **

\------------

_Dear Mr. Prince_

_I hope this letter finds you well and that it should mark a new direction life may take for you should you choose to consider its words. Your path has been difficult thus far. Arduous and dark of both the heart and soul, but that does not mean that it must remain that way. You have a chance here, to make something different out of the hand that fate has dealt you._

_They may be linked by blood and by name, but the son is not like his father. Just as you are not entirely like your own. The boy has been through his own hardships in life, and to lay upon a child the weight of your own personal grudges is not the answer. And over time you may even come to realize a mutual understanding between you both, thus I implore you, to measure your actions and your words._

_This is not what Lily would have wanted. You know that, and the fact that you would do such a thing only smears your connection with her even further. Because that boy is just as much her son as he is James’s, in terms of spirit, perhaps even more so._

_And consider this, if you really want to take revenge upon your former foe, would it not be all the more satisfactory than to take his place as the one his own son would look up to?_

  
  


_All the best and imploringly,_ **_The Golden Dragon._ **

\------------

The wee hours of his first day of classes, found Draco wandering through the halls of Hogwarts with a letter in hand. Requested incessantly by Drake the night before and intended for one Mr. Prince somewhere here at the castle, regarding the topic of some sort of excessive childhood grudge that Draco himself hadn’t paid anywhere near enough attention to. He hated James and liked someone named Lily and that really was all Draco got for the most part. Which, really, he couldn’t at all be blamed for. He was excited and giddy and to be honest, utterly terrified all at once.

Today was day one!

That was thankfully still a couple hours away though, giving him some much needed time to calm himself down as he sought to try and find his way to the Hogwarts owlery. He’d made a good amount of headway thus far, but was finding navigating the corridors of the massive castle to be a greater challenge than initially expected. There were just so many things to see! 

The school was beautiful, colour everywhere and oozing character in every crack, painting and facet of design in the structure itself. The tapered ceilings added a depth and scale of height to the structure that made Draco feel even smaller than he already did, suits of armor, gleaming and on guard at every main corner and painting that moved and spoke to you, when asked or prompted, or even sometimes without prompting at all. Everything just seemed so new and exciting. 

**_“Well doesn’t this bring back memories. It’s been a long time since I last saw the castle this whole and proper. Almost forgot what it looked like.”_ **Drake spoke wistfully, a distinct tone of fondness in his words and the slightest hints of sadness, which Draco promptly chose to ignore. Scaling up one of the towers then, with the sight of the vast scottish countryside pouring in from the windows in the early morning shine, Draco smiled at the sensation of warmth upon his features just as he noticed the sound of many soft, yet innumerable wingbeats emanating from a room just a little further down the hall. 

**_“If I recall correctly, just past Troll 101 and Scroll Writing, there should be an alcove of sorts that opens up into the Owlery.”_ **

Nodding at the statement, and gingerly pulling forth the note Drake had him write, Draco slipped by a few older student’s meandering down the halls before making his way towards the aforementioned room. Almost immediately his hand was rushing towards his nose at the sight and smell that greeted him upon entry.

Dear gods, the smell inside the room was beyond rancid, and the blonde could barely even see the stone beneath his feet given the sheer amount of owl droppings and pellets scattered across the ground. A frigid breeze blew through the room then, through the glassless windows that the owls slipped and flew through, cutting right past the fabric of Draco’s clothes and causing the blonde to wrap his arms tight around his middle. Well there went his good mood.

Within his mind, he could almost physically hear the sound of Drake laughing. This was horrific. He needed to find Cetus now so he could get out of here as soon as he could. Glancing around, grey eyes flitted to and fro across all the gathered fowl flitting and flying and sitting dainty in their nests. Thankfully, she wasn’t all much of a challenge to find, given that she was easily one of the largest owls in the entire owlery. The largest breed in the world the salesman had told him, and so logically he had jumped at the opportunity. A mistake to be sure. 

They had named the owl Cetus, because apparently she was even bigger than was normal and because of her utterly beastly personality. Draco had had Cetus for nearly two months before heading off to Hogwarts, and he never once managed to even properly pet the bloody bird, because it would always try to nip him. To be honest, he would have preferred a much calmer owl in hindsight, but his parents had been so impressed with Cetus’s sheer size and majesty that Draco had been essentially forced into taking her, under the assurance that she’d start to mellow out over time. 

She was currently sitting in one of the further nooks away from the entryway of the Owlery, her giant yellow eyes never leaving Draco’s form as tiptoed across the feces and remains to make it over to her position. Sitting in her little nook, she stood tall and eye level with Draco, the two staring each other down for a moment of two before Cetus all of a sudden cocked her head forward towards the blonde. 

**_“It seems like she feels something a little off about you lad haha.”_ **

Still very much staring at him, Cetus cocked her head left and right as she almost seemed to scan Draco’s form, her feathers ruffling ever so slightly, before she gingerly stepped forward and Draco took in the sight of a gorgeous Snowy owl sharing in the space of the Cetus’ coop. Pristine white feathers with almost gem like eyes; they were smaller than Cetus definitely, but given the close proximity Draco found the two in, he couldn’t help but smile. 

**_“Merlin, is that owl..... It can’t be.”_ **

Stepping closer just ever so slowly Draco reached out a hand, fingers trembling just ever so slightly, due to the cold of course. And moved to slowly brush his fingers against the side of Cetus’s wings, features lighting up as he did so. She was so soft! Merlin, this was phenomenal. 

She’d never let him touch her like this before. Normally all animals hated him with a burning passion, but right now she was actually letting him pet her! Marveling at how peaceful she seemed to be, Draco couldn’t help but wonder what in the world could have changed to bring about such a difference in behaviour. Glancing then towards the other bird in the coop, quietly observing their exchange, Draco smiled. 

“Are you the one who did this?” He asked aloud, watching as the Snowy Owl stepped closer towards the two, before nipping ever so gently at Draco’s fingers. “Did you make a friend Cetus? Oh you lucky girl, you’re already way ahead of me aren’t you. So popular.”

Using his one free hand, to brush one owl and then the other, Draco awkwardly began the process of pulling forth the letter Drake had had him write, a set of strings already pre-tied to allow for ease of attachment. Bringing up the letter then, Draco began to ever so gingerly loop the string around Cetus’ leg before a voice spoke up directly at his back. He would never admit it, but with a yelp, Draco spun on his heels to face the speaker, the owls at his back immediately taking flight at his sudden move before renestling in another coop further up and across the way. 

“I do certainly hope you aren’t planning on using your own owl for that missive are you? Best to use one that’s more nondescript if you’re planning to start your plan this early into the game.”

Looking on towards the figure across from him Draco took in the sight of a woman, thin with long curly brown hair and large round glasses that magnified her eyes to several times their natural size. Draped in a gauzy, spangled shawl and knitted fabrics, innumerable chains and beads were hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings of various shapes and sizes. 

**_“Trelawney.”_ **

And the woman smiled, turning for a moment towards the entryway, before extending a hand and a shimmer of light flew from the tips of her fingertips to surround the area just beyond the doorway. Absently, Draco figured that it was likely a notice-me-not spell despite not actually being aware of what a notice-me-not spell even was; though that particular thought was drowned out by the acknowledgement that this woman had just cast a spell both wandlessly and non-verbally. The blonde immediately felt his jaw start to drop.

“Hello there Mr. Malfoy. I’ve been expecting you.” The woman smirked, conjuring a small stool for herself to sit on as Draco continued to gawk, sliding one leg right up above the other and bringing her hands forward to rest her chin upon.

“Uh, h-hello.” Draco stuttered out. “Are you?”

“Sybill Trelawney? Why yes, indeed I am. And both of you are Draco Malfoy. Truly the world of magic is a wondrous and mysterious thing.” She spoke with a chuckle. “I’d never even imagined that at some point in my life I'd be dealing with time travel of all things. I really should thank you, the next couple years are all of a sudden looking so much more exciting because of the two of you.”

**_“Ah, so she’s started having visions.”_ **

"Please, I'm sitting right here. I ask that you please don't talk about me as if i'm not in the same room as you Drake. It is rather rude you know. And yes, I can hear you. I do not know exactly why, but I believe it might have something to do with the fact that my future self was part of the botched ritual to send you back, as I've been aware of you for quite some time now."

**_“Right. Very well. My apologies.”_ **

The woman merely hummed in acknowledgement. “But anyway, as I was saying before. I do certainly hope you weren’t planning on using your own owl for this little plan of yours. They’ll be far too easy to trace back, especially with the amount you plan on sending in the future.”

**_“It was only a temporary solution. I had planned on us getting another owl at some point, but I saw an opportunity to start moving now and decided to take it.”_ **

“Hmmm, very well. Though if that is the case, then simply pass me the letter and I shall make the delivery instead. Given the time, I imagine we don’t exactly have too much leeway before classes start, and the likelihood for the message within the note to sink in, or for the obstinate man to even read it will drastically dwindle. So give it to me, and I will handle it from there. Consider this a small charitable act of service to mark the start of our new working relationship.” The woman smiled, extending a hand towards Draco 

Unsure of what exactly to do, buth hearing no counter from Drake, Draco gingerly placed the letter into the waiting woman’s grasp. “Fantastic.” She smiled, slipping the note in her mass of coloured shawls. “Now, while I have you both, and while I do happen to have the general idea of the plan you’ve happened to come up with, I do believe it prudent for us to discuss our distinct roles in this soon to be partnership.”

**_“Oh, moving rather quickly aren’t you?”_ **

“I prefer the term proactive in this particular instance. Considering the danger we are inevitably likely to face and the chaos our little games should bring. It is to my understanding, that I am to help you with these missives and when the time comes aid young Draco here in mastering his own skills in being a seer alongside yourself. Am I correct?”

**_“That is indeed what I was hoping for, yes you are correct.”_ **

“Perfect, and I myself have no particular qualms about either for these conditions. Though, I’m personally much more interested in the topic of payment, or exchange of services. Because as much I would love to save the world with you all out of the goodness of my heart, there isn’t really much goodness left really. Mostly it’s just spite and laziness and indifference. Mostly indifference.”

**_“I see your true character hasn’t changed all that much between your present and future self.”_ **

Trelawney merely shrugged in response. “It’s what happens when you’ve been a seer as long as I have. It’s either Nihilism or Madness as you get older, one or the other. But that’s beside the point.”

**_“Mmhmm. So what are your conditions then?”_ **

\----------------

Decidedly dejected and just distinctly peeved after Drake’s conversation with Trelawney, Draco set himself down in huff on one of the benches in his first class of the day: Potions. Arguably the class he had been looking forward to the most before event starting at Hogwarts given his personal fondness for making things and the fact that it was taught by his Godfather, it truly was rather tragic that he all of a sudden found himself in simply too bad of a mood to even try to look forward to it. 

Drake had essentially just sold his soul to Trelawney and logically Draco had been less than appreciative of that fact. **_“Sorry lad, woman wouldn’t budge and it was either that or a thousand Galleons a month. We are currently eleven years old and in school, we didn’t exactly have much of a choice.”_ **

_“We? What do you mean we? You’re the one who said yes to her demands without even asking me! She wants me to be her personal assistant my entire career at Hogwarts. That’s insane!”_

**_“It was a bit of a shock yes. But look at it this way, now you’ll have more opportunities than ever to learn how to master your skills as a seer.”_ **

_“What skills? Legitimately nothing has happened. How do you even know I am a Seer, you massive berk.”_

**_“Hey rude. And because I am a seer, and seeing as we are one and same, it would stand to reason that you are too.”_ **

_“So then why don’t you just teach me?”_

And at this point Drake grew quiet, the briefest flicker of something shooting through Draco’s mind as the silence awkwardly stretched on. Finally, Drake mumbled something unintelligible in response, which was impressive, because he was voice inside Draco’s head, and Draco’s didn’t even know that was possible.

_“What was that?”_

A sigh.

**_“I said, because I’m sort of new to the whole seer thing too......”_ **

_“Huh? What? What do you mean?”_

**_“It means, I’d only been a seer for a year before I sent myself back, because I didn’t start my awakening till I was - .”_ **

_“Old.”_ Draco mentally suggested. 

**_“.... Thirty nine. You massive brat. Which means, I have literally no idea what I am doing, and as it was the Trelawney of the future teaching me how to See, the Trelawney of the present should be perfect for teaching you.”_ **

_“You mean both of us.”_ Draco smirked.

**_“Shut up.”_ **

It was then at this point that Draco noted a shape hovering just ever so slightly at the edge of his periphery, shifting back and forth with a distinct nervous energy. Turning to see one Neville Longbottom, the taller boy gave the blonde the tiniest of waves before hesitantly pointing at the last open seat beside Draco’s form. Turning around to take stock of the situation, Draco was quick to realize that in has lack of awareness, he had inadvertently failed to notice that the majority of the other Slytherins had chosen to congregate near the back of the room rather than near the front when Drace had sat himself, and that he was now effectively surrounded by Gryffindors. Joy.

Off near the very back of the room, Draco could see the giant grin on Nott’s features as the smaller pureblood called out. “Hope you’re happy with your seat Malfoy. ‘Cuz seating arrangements are set till the end of term.” And a round of snickers rang out across the room. Immediately, heat bloomed across Draco’s cheeks, the blonde quickly dropping his face into his hands and slumping onto the table, vibrating with embarrassment. 

And Longbottom still wouldn’t sit down, so after a brief moment of anguish Draco bit out a, “Sit down Longbottom.” Finally convincing the taller boy to settle into the seat. This was awful. This was terrible. This was supposed to be his favourite class, and now he had to spend the entire time, getting ribbed by his own housemates while being surrounded by Gryffindors. This was by far the worst first day he had ever had.

And with a flourish, Draco watched as his Godfather swept into the room, door slamming his wake and all sound and chatter quickly dying down as the Potions Professor stalked towards the front of the class, robes billowing menacingly in his wake. He really needed to get Severus to teach him how to do that. It looked so cool. 

Then without much preamble, the Slytherin Head began to speak. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the minds, ensnaring the senses...”

It was at this point, that Severus’ eyes shifted to glance towards Draco, a single brow rising at the sight of his position relative to the room, to which the blonde could only shrug. From there, the man continued. “I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper on death - that is, if you aren't all as disappointing as the thick-headed gremlins I usually have to teach."

And his Godfather’s eyes moved to scan the room once again, roving over each of their forms before eventually coming to a stop upon the form of a boy directly behind Draco himself. And Draco knew suddenly what was coming. 

_“I was taking actual notes. And the first thing that slimy bat does to me without ever meeting me is single me out. And yes, I am still bitter about it.”_

_\-----------_

To be perfectly honest Harry would have to say his experience so far in this new world of magic he had suddenly found himself in was astounding, with massives highs such as meeting Hagrid and Ron, getting Hedwig and finally managing to escape the dreadful home and school life he previously had to endure while living with the Dursleys. And that wasn’t even considering the sheer beauty and, cliche as it was, magic of everything around him.

But while there were plenty of highs there were also a couple less than pleasant things too he had come to discover. First and foremost, the fact that he was famous. Harry had never been a big fan of attention, mostly he just wanted to be like everybody else. And to find out he was some sort of savior for something he didn’t even know he had done, was more than a little jarring. Because that meant, even here, in this new fantastic and whimsical place, he was still seen as different from everyone else.

It was almost like being a freak again back with the Dursleys except turned on its head. Sure, it had been kind of nice, at the start, with everyone, even strangers being so kind and nice to him, but after a while it was just overwhelming. Thankfully, here at the castle though, things had seemingly begun to simmer down, what with classes beginning, and Harry couldn’t be happier. 

Well, actually, he could definitely be happier given the fact that he was sharing his very first class of the day, for his entire first year, with Nott. Which was another thing Harry had come to realize as he slowly attempted to adjust to the Wizarding World. No matter where he went, bullies were everywhere, and given the way Nott had talked down to Ron and thereafter himself, it was clear to Harry that the shorter boy was just like Dudley. So having to share a class with the berk, really wasn’t ideal. 

He had still been excited though. He was sharing the class with Ron and he always had a bit of an interest in science when he was younger, and potions seemed like the closest thing he was going to get to legitimate chemistry. The teacher was rather terrifying though, given the way he had come stalking into the room, dark and stern, and with a speech had the faintest hints of goosebumps rising along Harry’s skin. That was, until -

"Potter!" The Professor called out then. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" 

Practically feeling himself freeze up on the spot, Harry could do nothing really but gape at the shock of being called upon so suddenly out of the blue. As the second passed by, the snickers and whispers soon began to rise up across the room, and Harry could feel the heat building up in his cheeks as the Professor bore down upon him with his pitch black gaze. He almost didn’t want to speak out of fear of saying the wrong thing, but seeing as how literally everyone else in the room was staring at him now, Harry practically needed to get their attention off of him. 

And so, reluctantly, he opened his mouth, eyes turning downwards at the embarrassment that he felt, and began to speak.”

“I-.”

_“Draught of Living Death.”_ A voice in front of him rapidly hissed, quiet as can be, and Harry’s eyes snapped up to take in the sight of the same blonde haired boy he had helped on the train the day before. Shaggy blonde, almost silver hair, framing round boyish features, and two deep stormcloud eyes. 

And immediately Harry turned his gaze towards the front, "I- I think it’s D-Drug of Living Debt, sir." Harry said hesitantly, trying his best to recall the words exactly that the blonde had spoken. The room grew silent as all within absorbed the given answer, and once again Harry could feel the fire on his features. . 

“The correct name Mr. Potter, would be the Draught of Living Death.” The Potions Master drawled then. “But your answer is acceptable. And a point to Slytherin, for helping your fellow classmates. Don’t think I didn’t see you give the answer to Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy.”

And as the teacher continued to look on towards Harry, it looked to be almost a near physical endeavour for the older man to turn his attentions away and call out once more. “Goyle! Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Heaving a legitimately audible sigh at the other boy’s own gasp of surprise, Harry slumped back into his seat, already feeling exhausted, but grateful that the whole thing had finally come to an end. Locking gazes with the blonde in front of him once more, Harry whispered with utmost sincerity. “Thanks for the help.” 

The other merely shrugged in response. “Snape’s got a soft spot for me.” He smirked, looking only slightly smug.. “And he’s always his nastiest at the start of term I hear. Just study hard and you should be fine. And do your homework.”

“Okay. Uh, thanks. I-I’m Harry, I think we’ve met already I think?” Potter replied awkwardly, his lips turning upwards slow and hesitant, but there nonetheless. And as the strangely nice Slythering moved to turn away, he paused for a moment to let out a groan.

“Draco. And yeah, we have. Thank you for that again by the way. Now pay attention, or Snape’ll yell at you again.”

“Right. Okay.” And picking up his quill again, Harry smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback is more than appreciated. Anything done well, anything that could be improved upon, please lay it on me haha. It feeds my motivation to work and better my story and storytelling.
> 
> Alright, have a good one folks and thanks for reading. Stay safe out there y'all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4, as promised. Hopefully, things will start to get more exciting from here on out!

**_Chapter VI: Rivals and Beginning Revelations_ **

\------------

_Dear Ms. Rita Skeeter_

_I would like to hire services for an ongoing project of which I am attempting. Essentially, I would like to bring about solid change in this world that we live in, to make a difference for those that need and deserve it. To do this, I would like to utilize a portion of your daily paper to present my words and points in a consistent and timely manner. And now, I know what you’re probably thinking, what would you get out of this arrangement. Surely, it would have to be something fairly significant considering you would be giving up such relevant gossip space and lines of baseless slander._

_And I assure you, it is in fact quite significant. The fact that you are an unregistered animagus, who can take on the form of gnat, will not be revealed to the local authorities, allowing you to keep full reign of your covert and oftentimes illegal journalistic endeavours and personal freedoms as a person not currently confined to a cell in Azkaban or being forcibly made to join the unspeakables._

_I have enclosed along with this letter, the message I expect you to publish, entirely as is without any changes or modifications whatsoever, in your daily column, tomorrow. And who knows, if things turn out well, you might even get some recognition of your own for being the sole contact of_ _the greatest Seer in the world._

_All the best and excitedly,_ **_The Golden Dragon_ **

\------------

Hermione Granger was a prodigy. A fact she had always been aware of, since she had been young. Picking up skills faster than any other her age, learning new concepts, ideas and putting them into practice with clear understanding. Her mind was her greatest asset and coupled with her love of learning allowed her to acquire results leaps and bounds beyond even those thought to be her betters, earning her praise and recognition all throughout her life. 

And scorn and rejection. 

Know-it-all. Teacher’s Pet. Egghead. All words and statements she had heard countless times, in countless situations. Her greatest gift, her greatest curse. She just wanted to help. She just wanted everyone to do things the way they were meant to be done. The right way. The proper way as the rules and instructions had said and explained. Was that really so bad? She was just trying to help. And helping was good, wasn’t it?

But no matter what she did, for all her gifts, none of the other kids ever liked her. Said she was bossy, mean, insensitive. Said that she made everyone else look stupid and silly in comparison, even she was trying so very hard to make it better. To raise them up so that they could stand at her side. So they could be friends. But they never recognized her efforts. 

The adults in her life called her gifted. But she knew now that that was just a softer word for 'other'. But maybe, she thought, setting down her quill, eyes darting to her side, just maybe, not so other anymore.

When she first arrived here at Hogwarts, she had been enthralled by the wonder and whimsy presented by an entire hidden world. Of the intricacies of magic, of how spells worked and how enchantments were made to function along with the countless potential practical applications of such mystifying arts. She had been abuzz from her head to her toes with excitement, to do what she loved most in the entire world - Learn.

And not just about one single thing. But about anything and everything. A whole world full of novelty, curiosity and countless amazing secrets practically begging to be unearthed. It was like she was in a wonderful dream, where all was good and she had the chance to start over, except in this case it was all real. Then classes had begun, and the dreamlike haze gave way to reality. 

She found herself doing what she always did. Her nature to excel, rapidly earning her her teacher’s praise, and her classmates’ scorn. And it was like nothing had changed between this world and her former, until she started hearing talk of someone else. 

It took a couple of days of classes for the news to get to her, and for her to truly verify the claims that were being made. But as she observed the blonde, gingerly and without any real effort, transfigure their assigned matches into a needle and back again, something even she had yet to achieve, and on the first couple tries no less, she knew then that the rumours were true.

Draco Malfoy was just like her.

“Very well done Mr. Malfoy.” She heard McGonagall speak, dry and yet with a clear intonation of approval. “A point to Slytherin for exceeding expectations. It seems you are quite the natural at this. Perhaps the rest of your compatriots can learn a thing or two from your efforts.”

Smiling back, and looking decently smug, the blonde replied. “Why thank you Professor.”

And without preamble, McGonagall turned on her heels to head back towards the front, murmurs in dozens of tones all across the room, slowly rising amongst their gathered numbers. Soft and faint and yet all encompassing. And now that she was properly paying attention, she took in the knowledge that the words were once not actually about herself. 

“There he goes again....”

“Lucky git....”

“He’s so cool!”

“Urgh, why is this so hard...It’s so not fair.”

Turning back then towards her own match, Hermione closed her eyes and moved to focus. Her thoughts twofold. First, on the completion of the magecraft before her, because if Malfoy could do it, then so would she. And Second, plans for her inevitable encounter with the other prodigy, inevitable because Hermione would make it happen one way or another. She had finally found someone who had the potential to understand her and she was not going to just stand idly by and let him be swept up into the claws of someone else. She was taking no chances. He would be her friend.

But how to facilitate such an encounter? She couldn’t just ask him. That was far too simple, and not to mention embarrassing. She would need to establish a reason for them to end up in the same general area together in some capacity. She could ask him to show her the castle perhaps? As they were both younger students it would stand to reason they wouldn’t fully know their way around and familiarizing oneself with one’s environment was always a good idea. But then how would she bring that up? Or even manage to lie through her teeth, as she had already mapped out the castle in her own time. 

Lunch together then? No. Everyone always eats at their respective house tables, and she didn’t want to break any rules, so that wouldn’t work. So then what could? 

“Alright class, that will be all for today, and congratulations on successfully completing your first week here at Hogwarts. I’m glad to see you are all settling in well.” Professor McGonagall announced. “Which also means, I no longer have to refrain from assigning you all homework as you are all now well and used to being here at the castle. As such, for next class I expect you all to have read to page thirty six of your _“Beginners Guide to Transfiguration”_ and answered all the listed questions at the end of the chapter, on a corresponding parchment. This will be the first assignment for marks, do note. Dismissed.”

And as all the other students moved to put away their things, Hermione could her lips turning upwards. That was it! That was how she could do it. She could ask him to study together with her. It was so obvious, why hadn’t she thought of it sooner. It was a perfect solution to her conundrum. A chance to spend time together, get to know each other and be productive? What more could she ask for? 

Rising from her seat, Hermione nodded to herself. Alright. Now all she had to do was ask, and Malfoy seemed nice enough. Given how well he’s managed to work with Neville of all people in their potions class. Surely, he’d at the very least consider it, and he needed just a little extra push, well Hermione was more than confident she had more than enough logic at her back to convince him. 

Then turning towards the blonde’s direction, she gasped, suddenly noting the distinct vacancy of all the other students as McGonagall at the front raised a single brow in her direction. 

“As much as I have enjoyed you as a student so far Ms. Granger, I’m afraid i’m going to have to ask you to make your exit in short order. My last class of the day will be here in a couple moments and I must prepare the room for their practical applications.”

“R-Right!” Hermione spoke, rapidly picking up her items and bracing them against her chest. “Sorry Professor, have a wonderful weekend!”

“You as well Ms. Granger.” 

But Hermione could only barely hear the older woman as she bolted from the class, joining the countless other students scattered across the halls, eyes hunting fervently for the ever distinct sight of silver blonde hair. She couldn’t believe she had gotten so stuck in her own thoughts that she had actually bloody lost him. This was horrendous. Hopefully he was still somewhere nearby. 

Continuing to walk on, she made her way to the nearest junction relative to their class, a fork in the halls with a staircase to the left and branching paths to the right and onwards. Immediately she caught sight of a streak of silver at the edge of her vision and she was pushing her way forward towards the stairs. Climbing quickly in an endeavour to catch up, she spotted Malfoy dip out of the stairway into the floor above pulling what appeared to be a small parcel of sorts from his cloak. He must be making his way into the owlery, she noted, suddenly recalling that the coops were located in that general direction and on the fourth floor which Malfoy had just ascended to. Immediately, she was changing pace and moving towards a direction. If he was going to the Owlery then she could intercept him at the cloakroom stairwell. 

And as she climbed the steps two at a time to make it to the top, she watched as the blonde just casually strolled past from her view of the opening. Perfect. Stepping onto the fourth floor, she called out then, noting thankfully the lack of people currently around, and the impressive evenness in her voice despite having made a legitimate mad dash from one end of the boulding to the other, all the while still strangling her books against her form.

“E-Excuse me! Excuse me, Malfoy!”

Stopping in his tracks, the blonde whirled to face her, eyes wide and hands flying to his back in a clear attempt at hiding his letter. “What? Oh. It’s you Granger.” He responded, easing the tension in his form, before slipping the letter once again into the layers of his robes. 

“What do you want?”

“Oh, uh-.” A little shaken by the directness of the other, Hermione took a moment to plan out her words, stepping closer as she did so till she and the slytherin were only a couple feet apart. “Well, I was thinking that perhaps you would like to work on McGonagall’s assignment together at some point over this weekend. Um, given the fact that you and probably amongst the more advanced members of the class, I thought it would only make sense for the both of us to work on it together so that we could learn more from each other than just on our own.”

There. She had asked and given solid logic and support behind why it would benefit them both to work on the assignment together. Now once, he said yes, all that they would have to do then, would be to find a proper time and a day on the weekend that both happened to be free and -.

“Ah. No thank you. Thanks for asking me though.” The blonde cut in then, instantaneously shutting down her entire train of thought.

“Wha-What? Why ever not?”

Malfoy shrugged noncommittally. “Because I don’t want to.”

“But why? We would be able to finish the work faster, share ideas and get a far better mark than either one of us working on our own with how advanced the both of us are.”

It was at this point, that Malfoy began to smirk ever so slightly, and Hermione could suddenly feel a rushing in her ears. “Eh, I wouldn’t exactly go so far as to say both of us.” He drawled, lips curling into a smug sort of smile. “After all, last I checked I was the only one who managed to complete the practice spell in only a single class today.”

Hermione’s ears were on fire, as she took in the blonde’s words, her mouth gaping in shock and sheer indignation. Oh the nerve of this arsehole. Was he actually insinuating that he was better than she was? Hadn’t he heard anything at all about her from any of their other classes yet? “I-I only need a little more time! You saw me in class, I nearly had it at least four times before McGonagall dismissed us all.”

“Actually no, I’m afraid I wasn’t paying any attention to you. But don’t feel bad about it though, I don’t pay attention to anyone much really, most just aren’t worth my time y’know.”

She was starting to see red at this point. She never knew it could just bleed into her vision like rain down a windshield. “So you’re saying I’m not worth your time then? I’ll have you know I’m already at the top of the class in almost all of my subjects and have always been top of the class ever since I was little.”

“Oh wow. Very impressive.” Malfoy clapped, tapping his fingers against the palm of his other hand. “But my answer is still no. I doubt you have anything legitimate to teach me, and since I’m already clearly ahead, working together with you might just slow me down or bring down my marks.”

Glaring absolute murder towards the other first year, Hermione gritted out. “And what makes you so sure of that? You never know, I could score even higher than you in this upcoming assignment and then who’ll be the one laughing.” She scowled. 

And the blonde outright giggled at that. “Sure. I guess that could technically happen.”

“Yeah, well, it can and it will. Just you watch, you massive git. I’ll score top of the class in McGonagall’s assignment and make you eat your words.” She spoke in huff, stomach coiling with unbridled fury and impotent rage. Forget her plan. Forget getting to know each other, all she wanted to do now with this git was rip him a new one. 

“That’s quite the big claim you’re making there Granger.” Malfoy smirked. “You know what, sure. If you score top of the class, beating even me, we can study together. How does that sound?”

“Awful! Who in their bloody daft minds would want to study with someone like you? But you know what, I’m going to beat you anyway, just you watch you pompous git.” And whirling on her heels, Hermione stomped away, fire in her veins and pride in her throat. 

Oh she was so going to beat this prat.

\---------------

Slamming her hand against his assigned desk, right before the start of their latest Transfiguration class, Draco watched as Granger crossed her arms across her chest, and leveled him the coolest glare that she clearly could muster. It was almost intimidating. How quaint. Leaning down to examine the parchment, Granger cut him off with a sharp and succinct “Ninety four percent.” just as he shifted the sheet to glance at the numbers. 

Raising an expectant brow towards him, she stared him straight down the length of her nose, a single brow rising upwards, her eyes brimming with challenge. He almost felt bad for what he was about to respond with, sliding his own parchment forward for her to see. For a mud-

**_“Draco.”_ **

Rolling his eyes inwardly at Drake’s warning tone, Draco corrected himself. For a muggleborn, the results really were quite impressive. As someone new to the wizarding world, without any sort of basis for understanding magic as concept and its multiple forms of application, Granger had managed indeed to score far and above what anyone reasonably would have expected her to. Not that Draco was surprised.

Though there hadn’t been any distinct recollections from Drake’s past, the innate knowledge Draco now held within him informed him that such a result was only to be expected of one Hermione Granger. And that even as a young fledgling witch, it was already clear that the potential she held would truly be quite the sight to see as the years went on. 

He had been rather shocked, when she had approached him so suddenly a couple days ago, asking if he wanted to study together. He didn’t exactly what prompted her to undertake such an action, but he had been quite flattered when she had asked, and quite honestly had considered saying yes, if the exceedingly warm gut feelings he was having about her had been anything to go by. 

But Drake had pointed out rather quickly though, that doing so would only make it harder for the both of them in the long run, at least for now. He was a Slytherin, she was a Gryfinndor. He was pureblood and she was a muggleborn. He didn’t know how aware Granger happened to be in regards to blood and house politics, but it was clearly not enough to inform her that establishing any sort of relationship with Draco would only put the two of them into a totally unnecessary state of danger. Especially considering just how prolific the Malfoys happened to be in darker circles. 

Thankfully, Draco had been struck with a bolt of inspiration in the middle of their conversation. And instead of simply outright rejecting her, which was what he had tragically resigned himself to do, Granger herself had provided him an even better solution. A challenge. Now he just had to play his cards right, and -

“One hundred.” He spoke, looking up towards Granger, feeling smug, but measuring his presentation so as to not look too overly boastful. 

**_“Not that you earned it, considering I answered all of the questions for you."_**

_“Shush you. Let me have my moment. Besides, we’re Slytherins, and what sort of Slytherins would we be if we didn’t take advantage of cheating the system just a little bit.”_

He could practically hear Drake sigh. **_“Valid point.”_ **

And besides, it wasn't Draco's fault he was now technically ahead of the the majority of his classmates. It was all Drake's doing really, thanks to his arrival and the merging of their collective memories, Draco found that all the basic practical skills Drake used to possess in his original timeline, were now quite plainly also ingrained in him. Meaning that even though he may be in the same knowledge level as a normal first year at Hogwarts, in practice, he was actually likely at least a couple skill levels ahead, at least in terms of muscle memory and the management of his magic. And Draco, to be perfectly honest, was far from complaining. 

He loved the attention, he would very honestly admit. Seeing the professors' shocked faces as he easily managed to complete most of the first year practice charms and enchantments in record time, and the looks of sheer envy and admiration slowly but surely coming to be directed his way from his fellow student. The Gryffindors especially. Weasley's reactions were always quite distinctly amusing. It was as if every success that Draco had was a personal challenge and insult to the redhead, who would always either sweep out of the class complaining of the unfairness of the world into the Potter's ears, or be excused to the bathroom, hall or Hospital wing, after furiously attempt to match Draco himself, to often spectacularly outrageous results. But, Weasley right now was beside the point. 

Ever so slowly, Granger’s eyes raked up the page, scanning the sheet for any form of error till inevitably she tore her gaze away, her furious glare cooling and cooling until eventually a look of defeat crested across her features. Her fire sputtering out, and complexion paling ever so slightly. “One hundred.” She repeated then, acknowledging the number for what it was before taking in a deep breath and spinning on her heels to return to her own assigned seating. However, just as she was about to leave range of earshot, Draco leaned back in his seat, and spoke, hoping quite sincerely that this gamble would work. 

“Better luck next time, Granger. Maybe during exams.”

And Draco watched then, silent and intent as the girl slowed in her departure. Then she scoffed, back straightening with a renewed sort of vigour, still not turning back. “Please. Exams? Don’t think too highly of yourself Malfoy. All I’ll need is a couple weeks, just you wait and see.”

Smiling at her words, Draco couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled past his lips. “Really? I look forward to it.”

\-------------

A couple weeks after the start of classes, Draco felt that he was finally starting to get properly settled into schooling here at Hogwarts. The classes were a breeze and the experiences thus far with the rest of his new housemates has been for the most part rather pleasant. He had most of his classes with Vinny and Greg, and a few with Pansy so he wasn’t wanting for company in any capacity..

Though, that was not at all to say that everything was going absolutely perfectly of course, given the fact that he had ended up assigned to a room with Nott of all people, and the fact that Drake and Trelawney had him writing letters legitimately everyday. It was like homework, but even more tedious and quite honestly rather concerning, considering some of the subject matter listed within each of the parcels.

Such as the one he was currently writing as of this moment. It was a piece Trelawney had provided him details to, about some man currently fighting with his former friend for ownership of their shared company, warning him of how his dear old pal had apparently snapped and was now soon to make an attempt at something clearly rather drastic. Dear Merlin, what in the world could have happened to this man?

**_“Alright, last couple lines here. -_ **

**-** _I_ _t_ _’s too late for Thomas. There is no helping him anymore. He has made his decision, and he knows about you and Lana. -_

Whoa, and now there was some lady involved now too. This was starting to sound like one of his Mother’s horrifying personal novels she kept hidden around the manor. Euck. _‘Touch of Trailing Fire’_ his arse, there hadn't even been any fire spells at all in that entire book, utterly not worth the grounding he received after Fipy tattled on him for swiping it away when his mother hadn’t been looking. 

**_“Ah, I remember that. Absolutely horrendous work. No need to ever get back to it, and yes no fire spells or even spells at all. I think it might have even been about two muggles, which is hilarious in hindsight, but I digress. Massive disappointment, no character growth, boring plot and disliked everyone in the story.”_ **

_“Wait, you actually decided to try and read that slimy garbage?”_

**_“Eh, we all make horrible decisions when we inadvertently find ourselves trapped and living with a Psychopath and his army of murderous sheep.”_ **

Draco felt his eyes grow wide. _“Wh-What?!”_

From the recesses of his mind, he could almost envision the lofty dismissive wave that coincided Drake’s equally dismissive statement. 

**_“We’ll get to unpacking that never. Besides we have to hurry and finish up the letter here before your dormmates return. Come now, only one last line before it’s finished.”_ **

Perturbed, confused and just the slightest bit afraid, Draco returns the quill back to the parchment. Well apparently his future was rather insane. Wonderful news. Fantastic even. 

_“Alright. I’m ready.”_

**_“Smashing. Now here’s the last line -_ **

_\- So while you still can, take Lana and go. Find somewhere safe, somewhere isolated and wait for the storm to blow over. Please consider what I’ve said. -_

**_Now drop down a bit on the page, and sign -_ **

_\- With urgence,_ **_The Golden_** ** _Dragon -_**

_**And we are done. All we need do now is seal the letter and hand it off to Trelawney as she's apparently found a more effective way of distributing our message than just using owls.”** _

Folding the now finished parchment up atop the surface of his desk, Draco reached into one of the shelves of his desk for his Malfoy seal. Then stamping it, he rose from his seat to slip out of his dorm with less than twenty minutes till the arrival of curfew. Giving a couple of the older Slytherins a wave or a nod depending on their family backgrounds as Draco had long since been taught, before making his way out through the door and into the eerily silent halls of the castle at night. 

It was almost spooky, with the dark of the outside contrasting so starkly with the brilliant glow of the candles and sconces of the halls within, making the castle itself seem impossibly bigger and even more imposing than it already was. All Draco could hear as he made his way towards Trelawney’s office were the clicking of his own shoes against the stone of the walkways, and the fluttering of his robes billowing in the wind.

He felt strangely on edge. A heavy sort of sensation slowly but surely becoming indefinitely more pronounced as he continued on his way, a looming pressure on his back that never seemed to leave. He felt like something was coming. And impending sort of dread coiling in his gut, and then, Draco was gasping for air, hands flying to his mouth as he fell back against the nearest wall, his vision blurring, his head pounding loudly against his skull. Blearily, he could hear Drake shouting at him from the recesses of his mind, telling him to pull himself together, as Draco slumped down the wall and onto the cold stone of the floor beneath him. 

Breathing heavily, it felt like his mind was going to explode, as the dark of his vision (when did he shut his eyes?), rapidly bled into light, dull and orange and dim all around. The pounding in his ears shifting into the roar of (what in the world?) a mine cart screeching to a halt. The air was musty and cold, an arch with a door was before him now, where the mine cart itself had come to a stop, the numbers 7-1-3 etched into the stone of the rock itself (a vault). 

Then movement, a shape leaping from the cart, wand cutting through the air intermingled with streaks of purple. The light revealing a face, cold and hard and young and pale hidden beneath a hood, as the doors were were blown from their hinges and the man rushed forward.

_"It's not here master!"_ The man cried out, all shock and rage and the slightest hint of fear.

_"Dumbledore..... must have moved it..... to the castle.... We were too late....."_ Another voice then, joined the first, low and gravelly, words trailing like a hiss with each spoken sentence. _"Quickly.... return to the castle.... now......"_

And with a crack of motion, the figure was gone, the image of their face burned into the memory of Draco's mind, crazed, angry and terrifyingly familiar. And as Draco came to, with hands slowly sitting him up from his prone position against one of the walls of the hall, there it was again. That face. 

Tall and pale and with an ever so slight shake in his smile, brows furrowed in apparent concern, clad in a plain brown suit and simple purple turban. 

“M-M-Mr. Malfoy, a-ar-are you al-al-alright?” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback is more than appreciated. Anything done well, anything that could be improved upon, please lay it on me haha. It feeds my motivation to work and better my story and storytelling.
> 
> Alright, have a good one folks and thanks for reading. Stay safe out there y'all!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late reply folks! Life hit me real hard and I fell Ill, but I am recovering now and am back to updating! 
> 
> Next Chapter: Ron!  
> And please look out for my new Voltron Fic that'll be coming out soon. Take care all and please, let me know what you guys think!

**_Chapter V: The Truth behind Sight_ **

\------------

_To the just and honorable, Lady Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

_I hope this message finds you well. I believe I might have recently come into some relevant information to your many investigations regarding criminal activity here within the jurisdiction of Magical Britain. I know you are a busy woman, and as such, for expediency's sake I have gone to make this particular note as short and plain, as reasonably possible._

_Hieronymus Gibbon is a Death Eater. Who, like many his allies in the first Wizarding War, had managed to narrowly escape the yawning cages of Azkaban due to the manipulation of evidence held against him and strategic removal of key-eye witnesses. I suggest you act with haste as this particular message is being delivered to you via the Daily Prophet, which in turn means that likely Gibbon himself will soon be aware that he has now been outed if he isn't already._

_If you are concerned about the prospects of making an arrest, or the potential lack of evidence to convict, my personal suggestion would be that you take a look in the Gibbon family basement in the Eastern wing of the manor, in the secret dungeon hidden behind the largest bookcase in the old Gibbon family archives. To gain access to the room, you must pull on these three books in this precise order:_

_1- Exotic Potion Ingredients Vol II_

_2- The Truth amongst the Tales_

_3- Blood Rites and Imbibement, a Grim investigation_

  
  


_Once again, I do very much encourage you to act as quickly as possible. You might even save a few of the squibs, if you're fast enough. The choice is yours._

_All the best and encouragingly,_ **_The Golden Dragon_ **

\------------

  
  


Breathing heavily, his eyes growing wide at the figure before him, Draco could feel his body tensing up, autonomously moving to flatten itself as far back against the wall as he could in an attempt to put as much distance as possible between himself and the professor. He could still see the hard cold edges of the figure in the mine shaft, in the bank at Gringotts. A sudden, near overwhelming sense of fear and dread slowly coming to sit in the pit of his stomach, speaking of danger, and death and suffering.

In response to Draco’s reaction, Quirrel took another step closer, crouching down then to be at eye level with the blond, apparent concern written across his features. Tentatively, he raised his hands up, in a gesture of calming surrender, attempting to show Draco that he clearly meant the other no harm. 

“D-Deep br-breaths now, M-m-mr. Malf-f-foy. In an-and out. In a-an-and out. Take your ti-tim-time.”

Slowly, just barely managing to register the instruction he was being given, Draco attempted to settle himself down, still very on edge, but knowing full well that if he was to get away, he needed to keep himself from losing control. He didn’t know what it was that just happened, what it was that he had just seen, heard, experienced. But what he did know was that Quirrel was without a doubt far more than the stuttering professor presented himself to be. He knew what he had seen, Quirrel had broken into Gringotts bank, he had blown open the huge metal doors of vault 713 and he could very well do the same to Draco if the blonde didn’t get out of here right this second.

Inhaling deeply, Draco took in one breath and then another, desperately willing his heart out of his ears and his nerves to calm, as Quirrel chose at that point to crack a small smile and edge himself closer. A single hand reaching out towards Draco’s form, a clear act of comfort, of support, an anchor meant to aid him in grounding his sudden fear and anxiety.

But all Draco could see was a face behind that touch, vague in shape, not Quirrel’s, but another. A memory surfacing to the forefront of his mind; flat with no nose, lips pulled back in a twisted grin, skin a pale sickly white and covered in weblike veins.

_“Your father has failed me. And now you shall provide me service to balance this stain upon your name and house..... You will kill Dumbledore, or you and your kin shall suffer for my disappointments.”_

_“And he had been there the whole time! Right underneath Quirrel’s turban. No wonder he never shook my hand at the Leaky Cauldron that first time we met....._

_.... Bloody Voldemort....”_

And Draco jerked back so hard from the reaching limb that he stumbled onto his rear, shuffling across the ground in sudden dawning terror. Immediately, Quirrel moved to follow, calling out towards Draco, though the sound of his voice was suddenly too soft, too muddled to hear through the roaring in Draco’s ears. Without relent, the professor pushed onward, advancing towards the blond just as Draco finally got to his feet and without hesitation, threw his body into a run.

Right into the waiting arms of one Sybill Trelawney, the witch catching Draco right around the waist, and hoisting the terrified eleven year old right up against her chest. Had Draco been more lucid, the blond would have felt beyond embarrassed at being subjected to such a humiliatingly childlike position, but as the situation stood, all Draco himself could feel was an overwhelming sense of relief.

“And this Mr. Malfoy, is precisely why I told you not to drink the tea!” She spoke aloud, locking eyes with Draco then for just the briefest of seconds to take in the blond’s state, before turning her attention back towards her fellow staff member. 

“My sincerest apologies Quirinus. Mr. Malfoy here stumbled upon me having a bit of a time moving some items into my class and was lending me a hand, before he took a sip of the wrong drink, so to speak.”

From his position, clutching onto Trelawney’s form, Draco heard the other professor gasp. “What? Oh n-no! I-I shall alert M-Mad-d-dame Pomfrey at once!”

“What!? No, oh please, no need to go to such lengths Quirinus. I know the tea Mr. Malfoy had, exotic, very strong herbal qualities, he should be fine in an hour or so. Thankfully, he only had a minor drink, or he could have died-.”

“W-wh-What!?”

“-But he didn’t! Therefore he should be right as rain in a wee bit of time. I will handle him. Please Quirinus, don’t tell Minerva or Severus, they’ll never let me live it down.”

There was silence for a moment, Draco tightening his grip ever so slightly, before Quirrel seemed to heave a sigh, and the sound of shuffling robes struck his ears as the DADA professor rose from their crouched position. 

“I-I-If you sa-say so, Sybill. I s-still believe Madame P-p-pomfrey should be inf-fo-formed however.”

Trewalney nodded then. “Very well. But please just Poppy, I assure you, Mr. Malfoy will be fine. I’ll escort him back into his dorms once the worst of it has passed. Thank you Quirinus.”

“W-Well. Alright.” Quirrel responded back, voice and tone still seemingly unsure. “I-I’ll be off, th-then.”

“Thank you, have good night now professor.”

“Y-You as well, Syb-b-bill.”

And the sound of retreating footsteps began echoing down the hall, the clicking of heels against stone initially clear before growing faint and soft and disappearing entirely. Without preamble, Trelawney spun on her heels and carried Draco back into her classroom at the end of the hall, taking one, two, three steps in before without any warning, dropping Draco right onto his arse in the middle of the room, the blond landing with a crash. 

Tailbone and arse practically on fire at the suddenness of the drop Draco pulled himself to his feet, just barely catching the tail end of Trelawney finishing a spell around the doorway of the room. Turning back to look at him then, she gave him a gesture of sorts, and spoke dispassionately. 

“I’ve warded and silenced the room from the outside. You may begin screaming as you will.”

And Draco took that to heart. “THE DARK LORD IS IN THE CASTLE!?

HOW!?

WHY!?

And what the bloody hell just happened to me!?”

Taking all the screaming in stride, Trelwaney slipped her glasses off from the bridge of her nose and moved to let down her hair. As she did so, she strode further into the room, before setting herself down into one of the open stools. 

**_"Voldemort is in the castle, because he wants the Philosopher's stone if I can recall correctly, given the information my Potter gave me over a couple glasses of whiskey."_ **

"The philsopho's what? Also when were you planning on telling me our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was legitimately working with a being of the Dark Arts?"

Drake was silent for a moment. **_"... When it became relevant."_ **

"When would it ever not be relevant!?"

"Because he was never a threat to us. And as for your initial query, the Philosopher's stone is an ancient relic created by the renowned alchemist Nicholas Flammel, said to be capable of granting eternal life when handled properly." Trelawney supplied.

Blood draining from his face at the sound of her words, Draco backed himself against one of the nearby tables. "No way.... So then- the Dark Lord he's, so then he's -."

"Trying to bring himself back, yes. I personally don't know how, as I'm not exactly privy to how the stone itself works tragically but I'm sure he has some sort of plan." she finished with a shrug. 

"Then - then what are we going to do!?" Draco cried, a cold gnawing ice pooling at the base of his spine and crawling across his form. "We can't let him get a hold of the stone!"

Glancing idly at her nails Trelawney made a face of displeasure. " _We_ don't have to do anything. The problem will deal with itself."

"What? Of course we have to do something! If the Dark Lords brings himself back your whole planned would be ruined wouldn't it?" 

And he'll call his Death Eaters back to him, meaning his Father would have to answer, and then Draco would find himself and his family enslaved by a noseless, amoral megalomaniac all over again, if Drake's tragic intrusive memories were anything to go by.

**_"Hey, rude, my memories have been very helpful this far. And she's right lad. We don't have to do anything. The problem, should for the most part solve itself if my memory proves correct."_ **

"So long as everyone here is comfortable with the concept of using children as soldiers against a confirmed magical terrorist." Trelawney smiled humourlessly. 

**_"..... Not an inaccurate description."_ **

"And therein lies our current issue, at least in some capacity."

Furrowing his brow, and juggling all the information he could glean as effectively as he could, Draco dropped to his knees to sit on the ground. Not at all bothering with the inelegance of the position as he leaned himself back against the leg of one of the stools. Child soldiers? Solve itself?

To his side, Trelawney rolled her eyes at the sight of his still very apparent confusion. "Potter and his little gang will deal with Voldemort as is the plot destiny has provided us. And will continue to do so indefinitely unless we interfere."

"Potter? Beat the Dark Lord? How?" Draco spoke. "He's just a kid!"

"With love, supposedly." Trelawney drawled, voice oozing a distinct fake sweetness. "Though I figure it's probably the distinct blood magics his mother died to establish. But love just so happens to have a nicer much ring to it. 

Also, I imagine I need not explain this, but do try and stay away from Quirinus and his fiendish baldspot. I doubt they suspect much, given their arrogance, but your distinctly negative reaction to them just now likely did not help us in any capacity."

Draco blinked, not at all sure how to even begin responding to the information he was suddenly being given. 

"So we just, leave him alone?" The idea was almost unthinkable. 

**_"If we want to maintain the course of the current timeline. Yes."_ **

"Drake's memories from his future past are currently our greatest advantage in terms of reaching our intended goals." Trelawney added. "They give us the necessary information we need to effectively predict and potentially even control the relevant factors and players around us. If we start making changes too early or make changes that affect the timeline in a significant way."

**_"Then our entire ability to predict what happens over the years will disappear, and we'd be, as the muggles say, 'flying blind'."_ **

"Well as blind as two Seers could possibly be. Congratulations on your first vision by the way." The Divinations Professor smiled, suddenly with a cup of tea in hand and cookies on a plate at the table at her side. "What did you see?"

A vision? Was that what that was? No. It couldn't be. Visions were supposed to be about the future. To see and glimpse what lay ahead, not behind. The break in at Gringotts had been almost a month ago now.

Feeling an impact at the side of his face, Draco let out a startle. Face growing hot as he came to the realization that Trelawney had just thrown a ruddy cookie at him and that crumbs were now adorning both his face and his clothes. 

Seemingly unaware or more likely utterly indifferent to the glare Draco was now currently giving her, the Witch pressed on. 

"Well, go on? Clearly it had to have something to do with Quirrel, given your reaction to seeing him right after. Quite coincidental really, almost as if it were _fate_ even." Trelawney smirked behind the rim of her cup.

Scowling and indignant, Draco wiped his face clean with his sleeve and moved to cross his arm across his chest with a petulant grumble. For a moment, he entertained the idea of just not telling her, of walking out right now and leaving her hanging, but inevitably thought better of it, knowing it would probably be more trouble than it was worth. And besides, he did kind of legitimately need her information.

"I saw Quirrel breaking into Gringotts Vault and attempting to steal something from Vault 713."

"Ahh. Must have been the initial location of the Stone then. I knew it was somewhere in Gringotts." Trelawney replied, bringing a pastry to her lips. 

**_"Did you have another vision a while back?"_ **

"No. Hagrid, the groundskeeper just can't keep a secret for the life of him." 

At the mention of the term, visions, Draco cut in, brows furrowed in thought. "I thought Seers were only supposed to see into the future. Why did I happen to see something that's supposedly happened already nearly a month back?"

Idly dipping a cookie into her tea, Trelawney spoke without turning towards Draco. "Because that too is part of the gift of Sight."

"Wh-what to do you mean? Isn't divination the school of magic meant to predict the future?"

"Only to the short-sighted and un-informed." The witch responded, finishing one cookie and realizing that the tea in her cup had run dry, moved to outright drop another directly into the teapot itself. 

"The true extent of being able to See goes far beyond simple clairvoyance and precognition. For truly well experienced and legitimate Diviners, Oracles, Fortune tellers and what have you, to See means to peer not only into the future, but also to witness events occurring in the present and those buried in the past. In essence, it's like a very limited form of Omniscience, except entirely random and beyond one's sentient control.

One day, you might envision muggles stepping onto a space rock for the first time in history. On another, you watch a man get mauled to death by a Wyrm or a child perish of smallpox." 

**_"Well that sounds charming."_ **

None of those sounded very charming to Draco, the blond thought with a grimace. He really hoped he didn't have to watch anyone die or go through something terrible, both because his conscience was all of a sudden so much louder than it had ever been and because it seemed like that sort of stuff had the tendency to really fuck people up if the way both Drake and Trelawney were taking things was anything to go by. And Draco really would rather not be ruined thank you very much. 

**_"How often can we expect the visions to come and go?"_ **

"They will be variable for the most part. Starting out fairly rare and mostly innocuous and then steadily increase in clarity and occurence over time, unless something drastic happens. We'll likely need to start teaching him how to handle them without spontaneously collapsing every time they come about, otherwise people will start to take note." She thought for a moment, gesturing with her fingers to float her cookie from its tea based bath into her mouth. 

"In fact. We can start right now."

"But, shouldn't I be heading back to the dorms now?" Draco spoke, slowly rising to his feet and not at all liking the sight of a smile on the older caster features. "I'm really tired, and we have our first Flying lesson tomorrow morn. Can't be late for that."

"Nonsense. This is for your own wellbeing after all, and besides, you owe me for saving you from Quirrel. Don't worry. It shouldn't take you too long." She drawled. "Just a little marking for me is all, to really strengthen that mental grit."

And without warning Draco suddenly found his arms filled to the brim with stacked sheets, rising as high as his chin and sending him nearly toppling into the ground. Dropping the stack onto the table behind, the blond couldn't help but gawk at the size of it. It was nearly half his height and written on material far and above both Draco's current first year knowledge and standing.

"A little!? How am I even supposed to mark these?"

The woman merely gave him a dismissive wave of her hand, drinking her tea now right out of the pot. "Simple, shuffle the papers around a bit. Choose one of every four or five, pass it and fail the rest. Think of it as mental training for when you eventually have to choose between who lives and who dies."

Silence. "Merlin, what kind of teacher are you!?"

"The kind that's aware that teaching Divination is a sham but isn't about to let free pay and lodgings go unclaimed." She said with a small clap. "Now hop to it, those papers aren't going to mark themselves."

And Draco hated to admit it, but that was the most dastardly Slytherin thing he had ever heard. Damn, he was actually starting to respect the hag.

\---------------

The next day, found Draco amongst his peers as they moved to take their positions along one of the open fields around the castle as directed by Madame Hooch. Deprived of decent sleep, the blond blearily made his way forward, shifting to stand beside his other housemates as Hooch lined them up directly facing the Griffindors. 

As she did so, he took in the sight of what appeared to be a bit of an argument going on across the way on the Gryffindor side of their practice exercise. With Granger, Longbottom and Potter seemingly whispering amongst themselves as Weasley stood awkwardly at the side, clearly unsure of whether or not to intervene or even if he wanted to.

However, lacking in sleep and awareness, he could only really pick out certain tidbits of their conversation, let alone properly fathom the words or intent behind their exchange.

"... Please Harry...... paired with Draco..... I'm ..... of the other Slytherins."

"... It makes logical sense... best students.... contend with eachother..."

"..... Hooch put me here.... You'll be fine.... Why do I have to move?"

Stifling a yawn, Draco could feel Drake chuckle in the back of his mind. **_"Well looks like someone's rather popular."_ **

_"_ _Hmm?_ _"_

**_"Oh nothing."_ **

In the end it seemed like Potter had stood his ground over his assigned position and both Granger and Longbottom had ended up taking spots on either side of Potter and Weasley. Granger looked pinched about the entire ordeal and Longbottom distinctly terrified. Absently, Draco noted their Slytherin partners to be Daphne and Blaise respectively and Millicent at Draco's side, partnered with Weasley. It was rather tragic though. He had been so looking forward to flying all week, and now that he was here, sleep deprived and functioning with the knowledge that there was a serial murderer waltzing around inside the castle, he just couldn't quite muster up the same level of excitement he was normally used to. 

At the very least however, as the lesson eventually began, he had himself a bit of a giggle watching all his other yearmates struggle to summon their brooms. Even without Drake's help, Draco had already been flying for years now around the manor, so it was without much effort that he brought the broom to his hand and readied himself for take off. 

Snickering at the aggravated. "Ugh, of course." Granger sent his way and the image of Weasley's own broom slapping him in the nose, Draco watched as Potter across from him set himself up as well, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments as the other gave a wave. Returning it, albeit awkwardly, they all turned to Madame Hooch as she went out providing the student their relevant instructions for this exercise. Ideally, it seemed they were meant to practice hovering for a brief period of time and establish some semblance of how to maneuver their brooms for when they actually took to the air.

The purpose of having a partner across the way was to ensure each student had a frame of reference to compare themselves to, as well as a flying buddy once in the air. Though the idea of pairing students in an inter house fashion was frankly just asking for an accident to occur, particularly considering, in this instance, it was Gryffindor and Slytherin. 

Case in point: Longbottom shooting off without warning like a Cornish Pixie the moment Madame Hooch signaled their start.

"Mr. Longbottom. Mr. Longbottom!" The professor cried as the other pureblood boy zoomed across the open terrain, looping through archways and buttresses almost as if he was meant to fly, if one were able to ignore the near constant screaming and holding on for dear life. 

It was interesting then, that beyond Madame Hooch herself, almost none of his other yearmates seemed to have any sort of apparent concern for the other boy. The Slytherins sniggered amongst themselves while the Gryffindors seemed to be watching the entire event unfold with expressions of awe, excitement and even envy. It kind of made Draco feel just a little bit bad for the other pureblood. 

**_"Then do something about it. Tower to the right, directly beneath the statue with the spear."_ **

What?

**_"Its where he's going to fall. So I suggest you start moving soon, unless, of course, you happen to perfectly fine letting the poor bloke take a twenty meter drop."_ **

And to be perfectly honest. If someone had asked Draco the same thing a month and a half ago, he would probably have said yes in a heartbeat. Because it wouldn't have been any of his business to intervene and could potentially have been hilarious. 

But now, since he was all of as sudden trying to be a good person, eww, he knew that he let Longbottom fall and the silly git died, the guilt of it all would eat him alive. So really, Draco was doing this more for himself really.

**_"Whatever you have to tell yourself."_ **

And with a roll of his eyes and an aggravated sort of huff, Draco took off, the sounds of his fellows and Madame Hooch calling out to him in an outrage as he split from the rest of the class and towards the indicated tower as fast as he could. Stopping easily, he pulled forth his wand from his sleeve just as Longbottom appeared overhead, broom rushing onwards past the top of the tower, and the statue at its edge, as the other boy's cloak snagged itself against the spear of the figure. Now dangling perilously several meters up, Draco watched the cloak tear almost in slow motion as Longbottom hung there for a moment, dropped a bit and then fell. 

With a quick motion, Draco pushed his magic into the medium of his wand, muscles moving of their own accord in sure confident strokes as Drake spoke in mind and urged him to repeat. 

**_"Arresto Momentum."_ **

And Longbottom froze, midfall, halfway down the length of the tower, turning wide chocolate eyes towards Draco as he slowly floated towards the ground. Behind him, the blond could hear the sounds of his fellow students and Madame Hooch racing their way over, their words and phrases and cheer and whispers a cacophony of noise Draco chose to tune out. 

"He saved him!"

"That was so cool!"

"That was a second year charm spell. How does he know a second year charm spell!?"

"Awww, it would have been funnier if he fell."

Locking gazes with Longbottom as the bigger taller pureblood touched the ground, Draco lowered his wand and spoke. 

_"I always hated flying y'know. Could never figure out a broom for the life of me, which is funny seeing as I work with trees and plants most days haha."_

"If you don't want to fly Longbottom, next time please do the smart thing and either tell someone or don't show up to class." The blond drawled, stowing away his wand. "I really don't want to have to do this again, and I'm fairly sure you don't either."

And from his prone position still lying atop the grass, Longbottom merely gave a nod before promptly passing out, Hooch rushing over the second the boys eyes had closed to look him over for harm. After a quick scan and deeming no damage to have been done, the witch rounded on Draco. 

"Minus 20 points from Slytherin Mr. Malfoy for adding to an already tense and potentially life threatening situation. You acted without warning, told no one of your plan and could have quite possibly ended hurting yourself alongside Mr. Longbottom." She glared, yellow eyes boring into Draco's form as he slowly dismounted from his broom, features impassive. The blond could feel the indignation beginning to rise from his belly, the barest hints of colour starting to spread across his cheeks. 

**_"Before you go storming off, give it a second lad. They always do this, and besides, I've never known Hooch to be particularly biased."_ **

A pause, Draco refusing to back down and break eye contact with the witch that towered before. Then her gaze softened, and she let out huff.

"And plus 50 to Slytherin for saving a fellow student, and acting when no one else did. You're actions were admirable, rash and stupid as they were. However, NEVER do that again." And as the witch strode past, Draco felt himself surrounded by his fellow Slytherin, cheering loud for a massive gain of 30 house points. 

The rest of the class was fairly uneventful, and the lessons being taught and practice being conducted were already skills Draco himself was already well versed. Though at the end, the last fifteen minutes of open flying were an absolute joy after being crammed inside a castle for a month and a half. It well and truly was a much needed reprieve.

And so lost in his simple enjoyment of flying, that it wasn't until he had stopped for a moment to feel the breeze upon his face did he notice that someone had been tailing him. Turning around to address the other, stormclouds met evergreen forests and Harry Potter moved to fly his broom beside Draco's own.

"Hey." Potter smiled, coming to a near perfect stop, causing Draco to raise a brow. Huh.

**_"Yeah. Always was infuriatingly talented with a broom."_ **

"Hullo. Impressive flying for someone who's never been on a broom before."

"What? Oh thanks haha." The Gryffindor replied, raising a hand to scratch at his cheek. "I don't know, just feels natural I guess. You seemed pretty good yourself."

"Only because I had practice. Not all of us are talented enough to just pick up a broom and fly perfect." 

A dusting of red on the other boys cheeks. Huh. Must be colder up here than Draco thought.

"R-Really?" Potter responded.

"Usually yeah." 

And a brief stint of silence overtook them, the two just idly, but also pleasantly drifting through the air as they circled around the field.

"Uh. N-nice weather we're having eh?" Potter suddenly spoke, and Draco couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sheer awkwardness of the attempt.

"Please Potter, no small talk. You clearly have no skill for it. Here let me. How have classes been for you, oh Chosen one."

And Potter's features pinched at the very mention of the title, nose scrunching and brows furrowing before promptly smoothing themselves out. "Eh. They're going good! I'm enjoying all of them so far, but potions is definitely my favourite. It's just like Chemistry."

Not entirely what Chemistry was, Draco replied. "Really? Even after Snape went after you during the very first day."

"Yeah actually." The other first year smiled. "He seemed super scary at first like you said, but, I actually kind of like him. He's little mean yeah. And stern and nasty sometimes. But he's that way to everyone it seems and treats me like he does everyone else."

"Oh? Not particularly fond of your popularity Potter?" Draco smirked.

"Not one bit." Was the immediate response, taking the blond just the slightest bit aback. "It's nice sometimes yeah, but I'd really rather just be like everyone else. I don't want to be different. Just normal y'know."

The blond took a moment to let words sink in as they continued to fly. He cocked his head. "Why are you telling me this Potter? Shouldn't this be something you share with friends or members of your own house? Not that I'm complaining of course."

"Well.... I don't know. They all still seem to see me as this great big somebody. Even Ron still kind of does, and he's the first friend I've ever made here. I just thought, well, you seemed like a nice bloke, helping me out in our first class with Snape and now saving Neville. I-I don't know." Potter stuttered for a bit, cheeks steadily reddening. "S-sorry, I should go."

"Now, hold on a minute. Take your time, I'm not chasing you away." Draco spoke, feeling a smile come to his own lips. "I was just curious is all."

"No. No. That's fine. It's just, I thought you were really cool and I guess.... I guess I kind of wanted to be friends?" The other finished with a whisper, voice rising into a lilt before turning their face away, broom drifting off their parallel path ever so slowly. "It's, it's okay if you don't want to though. Boy-Who-Lived sort of hassle and all-."

"Sure. I'll be your friend Potter." Draco cut him off, laughing lightly, though the other boy had still yet to face him.

There was a pause for a moment, and Draco momentarily had the chance to wonder whether or not this was actually a good idea or not, given all the responsibilities he had in just a few short months suddenly found himself bearing. But then Potter had looked up, small shy smile on his lips and green eyes sparkling, and he said. "Uh, Harry. Just Harry."

Then the blond extended a hand. "Well then Harry, you can call me Draco."

And Harry took his hand, and they shook on it.

**_"Eugh. My teeth are rotting."_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback is more than appreciated. Anything done well, anything that could be improved upon, please lay it on me haha. It feeds my motivation to work and better my story and storytelling.
> 
> Alright, have a good one folks and thanks for reading. Stay safe out there y'all!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER UNDER CONSTRUCTION/EDITING. Please leave feedback or suggestions for improvement in the comments. 
> 
> Mostly looking at the initial section with Ron at this time. Please let me know of any thoughts or criticisms!

**_Chapter VI: Making Waves_ **

\------------

_To all it may concern,_

_As many are aware, this particular year has been and will still very much be quite the exciting one in the realm of Wizarding sports. From the exciting conclusion of the local Devon Shuntbumps, to the more internationally known affairs surrounding Thunder Volley, Terratonics and of course Quidditch or Quodpot to our American counterparts._

_As such, it is in the spirit of good sportsmanship, and much disappointment, that I will sadly have to inform the public, that the Birmgingham Boretails should be immediately disqualified and barred from participating any further in the currently ongoing British Winter Cup._

_The team, given their recent major successes over the past few years, had been hard pressed to keep their performance and skills up to match their growing fanbase's expectations, but instead of doubling down on solid work and effort and will, the Boretail's lead coach, one Ricard Fargue, had instead elected to use draughting with Felix Felicis and Ferrum Voluntatum._

_I implore sporting officials to conduct testing as soon as possible to confirm these statements as true and to keep the sanctity of our sports as clean, fair and respectful as possible._

_Let this be a lesson to the rest of the other teams, I will not tolerate cheating in my sports entertainment._

_Sternly and with great emphasis,_ **_The Golden Dragon_ **

\------------

  
  


"What are you up to Malfoy?" The words were spoken with heavy suspicion. Narrowed sea blue eyes and furrowed red brows stepping into Draco's line of sight, similar scarlet locks falling across a soft freckled face, tilted downwards to cast the speaker's features into dark. Draco imagined they must have thought the gesture made them look intimidating. Really, it was just rather silly.

"Weasley." Draco spoke, turning his attention back towards the text he currently had laid out before him. They were both in the library at the moment, towards one of the less popular alcoves for students to huddle up in, likely due to the relative age of all the nearby selections and the very apparent lack of windows and marginally awkward lighting. 

There was only a single sconce that illuminated the area, and the shell of the light was twisted at an odd angle so that the light only shone directly onto the table itself and in the outward direction of the main section of the library. That in turn, resulted in the entirety of the area beneath the sconce to be left in relative darkness, which was also exactly where Draco liked to sit. It was quite frankly, the perfect spot to brood, preferably menacingly, but also served as a convenient location for studying in relative peace. 

Well. Most of the time. "And to answer your question. I am currently trying very hard not to set these papers on fire at the moment." Gods damned, blasted bug eyed Trelawney. Sticking him with all this stupid divination work that she herself should be bloody doing instead.

"Wha-?" Immediately, the ginger looked taken aback, the scowl slipping from his lips at the flippant tone in Draco's voice. Obviously, then redhead had clearly expected some other sort of response. Probably a fairly biting one, given the apparent ongoing feud that the Weasleys and Malfoys have had for at least a few generations now. And Draco did think about it, it certainly would have been quite the convenient outlet for all the frustration he'd suddenly found himself dealing with so far. 

He could have commented on the clearly oversized robes and their fraying edges. The minor ink stains on the other boys fingertips denoting old and worn quills. Or just the simple fact that the other was indeed a Weasley, and that his family name was synonymous in most pureblood circles with poverty and blood traitorism.

But just as quickly as the thought came, it was just as swiftly dashed, not out of any particular niceties or calls to politeness of course, but rather just due to the fact that Draco already had enough on his plate thank you very much. And making a rather bull headed, ignorant and narrowminded enemy, for the second time no less if Drake's memories held true, would just be utterly exhausting to deal with. He had Nott for that particular role already.

Quickly moving to catch his bearings from the unexpected answer, Weasley returned his scowl back to the fore and leaned bodily the front Draco's table, looking down upon the other.

"Oh come off it Malfoy. Don't try your tricks with me. I know you're up to something. Your kind always is."

"Indeed we are. Now, do I burn the papers one at a time to savor every moment or all at once to watch the pretty colours."

The blond could practically feel the heat radiating off of the other boy now, the sensation of a smile slowly forming across Draco's lips. Turning his head up to meet the ginger's gaze, Weasley's cheeks had indeed slowly started to take one very apparent shade of crimson.

Leaning back into the chair, Draco heaved a small sigh and rolled his eyes. "Relax Weasley. You look about as red as your house and hair. I'm just messing with you. What do you want?"

Quietly, the words came, "I know what you're doing Malfoy. Stay away from my friends. You have other snakes to pal around with, I won't let you steal away Harry and Neville."

And truly, Draco could only blink in response, watching as the other boy held his gaze with a truly stubborn sort of glare. And well, he guessed the fact that he was getting chummy with a couple Gryffindors was certainly out of the ordinary, even more so when one considered the fact that one was a blood traitor and the other, the slayer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Not that he could be blamed for any of it, Potter sought him out on his own and the other Slytherins had essentially abandoned him to Longbottom in potions, so Draco was discounting any and all responsibility in himself that gave way to the given circumstances.

He had actually almost forgotten that there would be consequences for his sudden change in attitude and conscience, Slytherins were a suspicious lot, especially surrounding issues like Blood or the war. And as such, he would have expected a conversation like this to occur more likely with Nott or amongst his fellow housemates rather than a Weasley of all things.

"I didn't know you and Longbottom we're friends, Weasley. Sure." Draco shrugged. "But just because I won't come running to your friends, like you think I will, doesn't mean anything is going to change. We still have classes together and if I recall correctly, Potter was the one to approach me. Not the other way around."

"Yeah well Harry's new. He still doesn't know what sort of folk are good or not so good to hang around and make friends with."

_"You'll soon find out that some Wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't wanna go making friends with the wrong sort."_

Huh. 

**_"It's almost like staring into a tiny Red headed mirror."_ **

"And you think you're one of the good ones?" Draco replied, almost incredulously. 

"Of course I am." Came the resolute response, giving Draco pause. "And you're not. That's just facts Malfoy."

Well. Draco legitimately did not have a response for that. Of all the ways he had been expecting this particular conversation potentially progressing, being called out and absently disparaged by a Weasley was definitely not one of them. And just for being a Slytherin too likely, and a Malfoy, when they technically barely even knew each other. Okay, he was starting to feel a little insulted now actually. 

**_"I believe the muggles have a saying for situations like this. The cauldron calling the oven charred."_ **

"And what makes you think that Weasley? What makes you so sure?" Draco replied slowly. "You don't know me. This is the first time we've even spoken to each other."

Narrowing his eyes the redhead responded. "I know enough Malfoy. You rich Slytherin purebloods are all the same. Sleazy greedy old families that toil with the Dark arts, wanting for nothing while at the same time stepping all over us smaller folk. Up in arms and raving about muggleborns for who knows what, despite all the horrible things your people have done to them. What's there not to know?" The other boy shrugged, looking almost smug as he moved to cross his arms atop his chest.

"Quite a lot really." Draco spoke back, feeling colder now as the words the other spoke steadily began to settle in. Without a word, he slowly rose form his seat began to pack his things, steady and with measure, Trelawney's papers now long forgotten, a roaring thrum in his ears. "But considering your own family has turned their backs on tradition, I doubt a blood traitor like you could even begin to understand. Or maybe, that's simply because you were too poor growing up, you couldn't afford the luxury of learning how to read."

**_"Okay. This is getting out of hand. What happened to not making enemies a second time?"_ **

Quiet! Draco mentally growled, he was insulted now and frigidly offended. And Weasley - Weasley started it first. Besides, Draco was leaving. He refused to suffer this self-righteous sanctimonious rat for even a moment longer. 

"And if you think I'm bad, then you're not any better Weasley. I've seen and met dozens of people just like you all my life. You just want Harry for yourself, because he has something your family will never have. Money and bloody respect. And if you think I'm wrong, then you're even worse than us sleazy pureblood Slytherins, because at the very least, we don't lie to ourselves."

And Draco took a small sense of satisfaction in seeing how the redhead immediately gaped at him like a fish and how his features steadily grew to match the shade of his hair, hands balling into fists at his side. Blue eyes burned into Draco's form, an ugly snarl quickly forming upon the other boys lips, but the blond was done with this conversation and without another look back pushed passed the Weasley into the rest of the library.

\------------

The next time Draco had a vision, it was thankfully in the safety of his dormitory late in the evening and in the comfort of his own bed. He had been trying restlessly to sleep after having finished another relatively exhausting day of classes, marking assignments for Trelawney and subtly attempting to keep as much distance as feasibly possible from Quirrel and his evil living bald spot in DADA. 

Things had mostly been fairly uneventfully over the past little while. It had been a solid two weeks since his conversation with Weasley, and though he could almost physically feel the undying loathing and contempt the other boy was leveling at him with his eyes and face and general being, they hadn't yet had another confrontation like before which Draco was grateful for. 

He had been able to catch up with Vinny and Greg and Pansy, and slowly started to integrate himself in the general Slytherin ecosystem by making inroads with some of the more prominent names amongst his fellow year mates. Millicent and Daphne both seemed fairly pleasant so far, if a bit snobbish and self-absorbed, understandable considering they hailed from similarly well connected households, while Zabini for the most part was still fairly aloof to most everyone as of yet. 

But Draco figured he had time and even a living cheat sheet so to speak so he wasn't too overly worried. His friendship with Harry was progressing fairly well and he had even managed to keep any incidents with Nott to a fairly healthy minimum as of late, which was always nice to reflect about. 

He really should have guessed that the quiet peace he had managed to accrue over the past little while would logically mean that something else was bound to happen. And as such, at one moment he had been lying in his bed, and in the next, he was all of a sudden in a home not unlike his own, but darker and older and with clear signs of age and disrepair. 

The high walls all around him stretched far towards the vaulted ceilings, paint peeling along the corners with web like cracks trailing across whole sections of wall. The staircase at the center of the foyer, worn with clear indications of traffic along the rims of the steps, and yet the banisters lined with dust alongside all the other primly scattered across the room, covered in cloths of white and gold. It was a foyer, Draco acknowledged blearily, his mind already spinning with the sudden shift and change in location, the sudden lucidity in his thoughts leaving him even further shaken as the entrance before him yawned wide and empty as it lead further into the rest of the home.

But who's home? Draco thought absently, before reaching out and partially bracing himself against one of the cloth covered chairs for support. There wasn't anything he found immediately recognizable save for the clearly apparent former opulence of the place. Dull silver banisters trailing up along the sides of the stairs, inlays of gold sewn into the thick shut curtains, beautiful yet faded portraits and paintings all depicting cool and elegantly dressed women. And across the whole view, a crest emblazoned across the ends of each of the low hanging curtains and emblazoned across the chests of each regal dame.

A gleaming silver shield, inlaid with soft white flowers, growing and blooming from vines of emerald ivy that coiled and knotted around the plain metal body. From all angles of the crest, the ivy grew outwards in mirrored spiraling shapes, looping again and again around other respective vines before finally coalescing at the very top of the intricate delicate heraldry with a knot of stark blue hydrangeas. It was quite pretty, Draco readily acknowledged, though it did not exactly provide any additional clues as to where he happened to find himself.

Then the doors to the foyer swung open, a resounding crash echoing throughout the silent atmosphere as a child, just barely younger than Draco himself, rushed into the space with a flurry of movement, their features a blur in contrast to the sharpness of the rest of the vision. But Draco himself did not have a chance to truly ponder this anomaly, as he very quickly found himself falling through the very ground beneath his feet, the whole around him quickly crumbling away as the child bolted up the stairs with a shuddered cry in their throat. 

_"Mother!"_

And all Draco could see was dark, his stomach turning as continued his free fall. He tried to scream, but only the sound of silent weeping and scattered voices could be heard plummeting alongside him in the blackened ether. An overwhelming sense of loss and fear and anger seeping into his being. 

_"I'm afraid she's getting worse, young Master."_

_".... They've found that it's some sort of curse."_

_"We've done all that we can."_

_"Put her to sleep then. Stave off the effects. Give us time."_

_"..... please. Please don't leave me mum...."_

_"..... I'm right here little Dory. Mum's just going to sleep for a bit alright..... I'll see you very soon. I promise."_

_...._

_...._

_"..... Cease your crying boy. It is unfit for your station. I refuse to allow this family to look weak under any further circumstances."_

_".... I SAID, STOP CRYING!"_

Then as heat blossomed across his cheek Draco leapt from his bed, eyes wide and ears ringing with the resounding echoes of a deafening crack. Breathing heavily, the blond grasped at his covers in an attempt to ground himself, head still spinning from the immediate ordeal, his cheek still stinging despite being aware that no mark would or could be found.

**_"If you need to throw up, I would suggest doing so over the side of the bed rather than on it."_ **

And though Draco would never admit it, the sound of Drake's disembodied voice was exactly what he needed right now. The rushing in his ears and the pounding in his chest ever so slowly starting to calm as he promptly pulled his legs up beneath him and moved to bury his face between his hands. 

"Please, shut up. World's spinning and you're not helping."

**_"'Course I'm not helping. The muggles call it inertia, seems to be gaining quite a bit of momentum amongst Wizarding folks as of late."_ **

Draco was silent for a moment. "I'm not even going to try and understand what you just said just now. And instead I'm just going to correctly assume it was something dumb."

**_"Wow. Rude. Merlin, kids these days."_ **

Rubbing at his eyes Draco shook his head, silently focusing on his exasperation with his mind-neighbour to get his nerves down to manageable levels. Then with an explosive sigh, he let himself fall back and onto the pillows of his bed again, gaze trained on the ceiling of his bunk and surrounding curtains, eyes already long since adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. Then after a moment Drake spoke up again.

**_"So, what did you see lad? Hopefully wasn't as bad as the last one, given the distinct lack of immediately coming face to face with an murderous egomaniac the moment after it finished."_ **

That was true. At the very least this particular experience didn't leave Draco hyperventilating horrifically and fearing for his own life. Though instead it had ended up leaving him feeling rather put out and legitimately sad over someone else's. It wasn't exactly a feeling Draco experienced very often, and everytime he did end up feeling overly empathetic it always ended up with him feeling exceedingly exhausted for not being able to make it go away as soon as he could. 

The poor lad in the vision must be having a real awful time right now. Draco couldn't even begin to imagine just how rough things must be for them, given the small glimpse the blond had the displeasure of experiencing. He had heard about things like that before, along the grapevine and amidst the gossip of his fellow pureblood children, but he hadn't really ever paid the idea of it any mind as he was mostly focused on his own goings on and fairly comfortable family situation. 

He thinks maybe he'd even heard his Mother and Father talking about it too at some point, how some families could go about and turn in on themselves when they find themselves struggling. His Mother in particular had been quite upset at the whole topic of discussion, and his Father uncharacteristically quiet and sensitive in comparison to his normally blunt and honest self. Sensing his reluctance to speak at the moment, Drake piped up after a moment. 

**_"Actually, forget I asked just now. Perhaps you ought to get yourself some rest first. You can let myself and Trelawney know when you're ready."_ **

"..... Thank you. I will."

\------------

"Did you hear about what happened to the Boretails?" Greg spoke up during lunch a couple of days later, Vinny at his side looking equally conspiratorial as they both leaned in close towards Draco from their opposition across the table.

Because he was raised with manners, Draco opted to simply shake his head in response to the question, still mid chew and in dire need of a drink to chase down his food. Taking the response for what it was, Vinny continued on in Greg's place, a gleeful smile on both their features.

"Ugly blokes got caught Draughting last game and have now been officially disqualified for the rest of Winter cup and might even end up getting sacked from the entire League!"

"Really?" The blond spoke, with feigned surprise. "How did the saps get caught?"

"They didn't!" Another voice from further down the table cut in, an older boy several years older than them. If Draco could recall correctly he was supposed to be the Quidditch team captain for Slytherin. Flinch something or other. Draco knew he really should have committed to memory all of the names and faces of the more prominent members of his household as a proper Slytherin looking to network, but with the more than plentiful amount of stress he already found himself dealing with on the daily, he'd come to the rather quick acknowledgement that he simply couldn't be bothered to even attempt any Slytherin social climbing at this point. Maybe after the break. Possibly.

"The poor bastards got outed. Had their brooms ripped right out from under their tiny nads." Flinch - 

**_"Flint."_ **

\- continued. "And believe me I'm ecstatic as anyone else that their shite team is out of the running, but the fact that they got ratted out by a bloody paper has even got me feelin' bad for 'em."

Immediately, there was a round of minor gasps as several other interested gazes moved to turn in their direction. Both Greg and Vinny looked floored by the news as both their eyes had grown at the new information. 

"What do you mean a ruddy paper outed them? Did someone on their team snitch? Was it Guthry? It had to be Guthry right? Guy's a right tosser." Greg replied. 

"Nope. Legitimately outed by a paper with supposedly no contact with them whatsoever." Another older student spoke up from beside the Slytherin captain, - 

**_"Pucey, chaser, same year as Flint."_ **

"Some weekly gossip rag in the Daily prophet apparently that's been making heads spin for a couple weeks now. Written by that slimy hag Skeeter no less."

"Skeeter? That slug is behind all this?" Yet another voice responded, and really at this point Draco wasn't even going to try recognizing anyone. It seemed like all of a sudden their letterwork was quite the hot topic, which left Draco feeling strangely internally smug for being in the full know of what was actually going on. Of course he didn't exactly know the full contents of every letter as more than half of them thus far have mostly come from Trelawney's own visions with the odd smattering of notes coming from Drake's future knowledge and personal memories. 

And considering Trelawney was Trelawney and the one with the direct contact with Skeeter, she didn't exactly bother with sending her half of the letters out for review from Drake and Draco before mailing them, so the two of them had mostly been keeping ahead of the papers themselves by nagging the woman incessantly about what she had sent in. Which clearly was all according to her nefarious plan of making Draco do all of her blasted marking for her.

Pucey shook his head. "Nope. Only acting as town cryer for the real writer it seems. Some seer apparently that goes by the moniker, 'The Golden Dragon'. Stupid name if you ask me."

**_"I am beyond offended."_ **

Vinny laughed. "Yeah. It does sound pretty dumb, right Greg?"

"Yeah! What kind of silly name is The Golden Dragon anyway."

Then, movement in the corner of Draco's eye, a copy of the daily prophet landing right in front of Flint and Pucey, a girl standing above them, younger with straw blonde hair and a soft white pallor. Her lips pressed into a line, and her shoulder tense as she turned towards another similar looking girl standing at her side before locking gazes with Flint.

**_"Hestia and Flora Carrow. Sixth years."_ **

Carrow, Draco thought with a shock. Oh blimey. 

"One that we should all be paying very close attention to." She said softly, as the loud chattering at the table had suddenly died down. "This was from a couple weeks back. Addressed to Amelia Bones. I suggest you read it Pucey"

"What the hell are you two on about -."

"Just read the column Adrian. We thought you knew already but clearly not." The other girl cut in, the force of both their gazes clearly forcing the other boy to rein himself in and pick up the paper. Within moments, the red on his cheeks and and the scowl on his features faded and paled to a ghostly white. 

Seeing this happen, Flint frowned towards his friend, brows furrowing in concern, but before he could speak the Carrows spoke again. "That's your Uncle-In-Law isn't it? Gibbon right? He's currently been sentenced to The Kiss in early December."

"The Dragon outed him to the Aurors. Didn't even give the man a chance to get out of bed before they raided the manor." 

A pause. "The column knew how to open your Uncle's secret room. Where it was hidden. Told the law how to find it. We all need to watch this supposed Seer closely. Because while it could have been a one off, a horrifically lucky guess, they haven't been wrong once since the papers started printing it."

"We plan to be prepared. And we suggest, as Slytherins and fellow purebloods, you all do too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback is more than appreciated. Anything done well, anything that could be improved upon, please lay it on me haha. It feeds my motivation to work and better my story and storytelling.
> 
> Alright, have a good one folks and thanks for reading. Stay safe out there y'all! And Happy Hols!


End file.
